


Lunaris

by kaientai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: All happens in one lunar cycle for theme purposes, Blood and Gore, F/M, Gift Fic, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Not as ominous as it looks tbh, Ok NOW its ominous, Pining, Yokai Akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai
Summary: When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. [DW20]
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Comments: 92
Kudos: 349
Collections: • 𝙠𝙚𝙞𝙟𝙞 𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞 •





	1. New Moon

**Author's Note:**

> for july, i think i got carried away.

【 🌑 】

In the most abstract sense, you supposed that you wouldn't have half your problems if you'd just gotten over your fondness for Bokuto Koutarou. 

But it was easier said than done, really. He wasn't the brightest student in Fukurodani, but he certainly glimmered with his own unrivalled passion for the sport he loved the most. The megawatt smile that grazed Bokuto's face when his spikes flew past the opposing team's faces was something that made your heart flutter like hummingbirds' wings beating against your rib cage. 

His excitement, his exhilaration—it's as if they were your own. 

You were painfully aware that you're not the only one that was ensnared in his optimistic charm. You've seen other girls shyly ushering themselves inside the gym; red-faced and flustered as they gave Bokuto packed bentos, love letters, and even homemade chocolate. The difference between you and them, however, was that you were aware that Bokuto wasn't like any other teenage boy easily swayed by his admirers. No, he was on a one-track mind headed straight to the Olympics. 

"You sure you have a crush on him, (Name)?" your best friend, Itsumi, sighed. "Way to keep up with the competition." 

The question was probably warranted by the sudden influx of girls crowding outside the gym. And while that wasn't too strange a sight, there were more of them than usual. The bentos and chocolates were replaced with presents enclosed in cute wrapping paper and tied with ribbons that may have spoken volume about their taste in color. 

When you felt the satisfying burn of the stretch on your hamstrings, you assumed a sitting position on the grounds. "I don't really have time for that, you know, with the competition drawing closer."

"So?" Itsumi frowned, undoing the knot on your right shoe just to spite you. "I bet my entire life that he would _adore_ your cooking! Those girls can't even make a proper bento for shit—"

" _Sumi_ ," you reprimanded. 

She groaned, scratching the back of her head with annoyance. "All I'm saying is, not only does Bokuto-san actually remember your name, but you're the captain of the track team! If there's anyone who can keep up with his energy, it's _you_."

The moment Itsumi said the words, your gaze was caught by a familiar head of bouffant, black and white hair. Bokuto was chattering with his vice captain, Akaashi, as they made their way towards the gym—completely oblivious of the company that's camping out to anticipate his arrival. His golden eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he spoke, his setter seeming unbothered but not apathetic of his senpai's animated story-telling. 

"There _is_ one guy," you muttered to yourself. 

"Bokuto-san, happy birthday!" 

"Happy birthday, ace!"

"I hope you like our presents!"

Itsumi hummed in understanding as you raised an eyebrow at the brewing crowd. "Eh? So it's his birthday! You're a shitty admirer, (Name)."

"Shut up," you told her off as you got up to your feet to dust off your training clothes. The rest of your teammates were yet to finish up with their respective warm-ups, so you placed both hands over your mouth to speak over the swooning females a few meters away. 

"Run twenty laps around the oval once you're done. Anyone who can't beat their previous records gets five extra." Your command was met with disappointed groans and pleas for mercy, but none bothered to protest against your words. Though they could be a couple of slackers at times, the team took your threats at face value. 

You headed over to the oval before anyone else, leaving Itsumi behind to gossip with the rest of your third year teammates as you prepared to time your run on your wristwatch. The sun was hanging low in the horizon, painting the sky with a resplendent orange glow that momentarily distracted you. Practice started quite late for all athletic teams today because of that unnecessary school-wide activity, and you didn't get why you're the only one that's feeling the urgency to catch up with the missed hours of practice. 

The air still carried the traces of summer in the breeze, blowing past you in sweltering intervals. But the temperature would be the last thing to deter you in training. You've built up a stamina that could be mistaken for a professional runner's, and have been told numerous times that your endurance was inhuman. You'd even daresay that if you challenged Bokuto, himself, to see whose endurance would last longer, you'd _still_ come out on top. 

Once you'd completed a single lap, you let your eyes wander back to the gym, where the throng of the ace's admirers has considerably thinned. Bokuto's carrying an armful of poorly wrapped birthday presents as he spoke to the last of the girls with a sheepish look on his face. You scoffed, thinking about how futile their efforts were. 

But then, you felt yourself make a wrong step on the oval, causing you to lose your footing and trip on your own feet. The dust of the bare grounds settled around you as you processed what just happened with wide eyes. Your right shoe _did_ feel a little loose, and that's when you realized that your damn laces were untied—

"Hey! Are you alright?" 

As you double-knotted your shoelaces, you looked up at who was checking up on you, but your eyes nearly bugged out when you were greeted by the sight of Bokuto running towards you with the abundance of gifts still secured in his arms. Only this idiot would go out of his way to do that even when he's _literally_ got his hands full. 

"It's not like you to just trip up like that," Bokuto pointed out in-between laughs as he awkwardly offered his arm for you to grab onto. Declining, you pulled yourself back to your feet with your own effort, thanking him hastily. 

"Bokuto-san, please don't bother the track team when they're training," followed the monotonous sound of Akaashi's voice, who emerged behind Bokuto at a lethargic pace. 

You've never really batted an eyelash towards the second year. Though Akaashi was pretty for a high school boy, he didn't strike you as anything more. With an abundant energy source like Bokuto standing next to him all the time, it was normal that your attention would be nabbed, right?

But in this proximity, the sight of the otherwise uninteresting setter caused a shift in your focus for a moment. You didn't miss the way his normally expressionless eyes lit up with recognition once he saw the small bell strung around your left wrist. Most people would mistake it for a hair tie, but it was actually a warding charm given to you at a young age. Why would Akaashi look like he was familiar with it?

"I apologize for Bokuto-san's impudence," Akaashi ducked his head into a slight bow. "He does get carried away by trivial things at times." 

"Eh?! She tripped out of nowhere, Akaashi! I'm just concerned..." the ace sulked with a pout, uncharacteristic of such a ripped athlete like himself, as he adjusted his grip on his birthday presents. 

Multiple footsteps could be heard headed your way, and when you glanced behind you, Itsumi and a few of your teammates rushed to the scene. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, lightly slapping your cheeks. "No concussion?"

"Concu—Sumi, _what_ are you talking about? I tripped, that's it." 

Kazuto, one of the younger members of the team snickered into his palm. "Itsumi-senpai's acting like she wasn't the first to burst out laughing when you tripped, captain." 

"Yeah, cap. She couldn't believe you forgot to tie your laces," said Saiko, who shot Itsumi an accusatory stare. 

You narrowed your eyes at your ever-so whimsical of a best friend. Deciding that you'll lay divine punishment on her later, you turned to the boys from the volleyball team with an apologetic expression. "Really, I'm fine. Thanks for checking on me, guys. Don't you have practice, too?"

Bokuto shook his head. "The coach laid us off for the day. Konoha just told me it was rude to blow off the girls waiting for me at the gym..."

"Whoa," Kazuto gaped at him in awe. "I want to be that popular, too!" 

"The first step to achieving that is to put your back into training, Kazuto," you told him with a sigh, restarting your timer in defeat. "Come on, we've only got an hour of training left, you pests." 

"Yes, captain!" your teammates responded with a tone dipped in mockery. You could feel your exasperation reaching a fever pitch at this point. Oh, the things you'd do just to get the chance to whack them in the head one by one.

"(Surname), we'll be off," Bokuto informed, grinning widely. "Be careful next time, 'kay?" 

His words surprised you so much, you could only manage a minute nod to send his way, not giving you any time to relish in the blush that painted your face. Once he was satisfied with your response, Bokuto turned on his heel, Akaashi following suit without much input to the conversation. However, the setter _did_ cast one last glance your way as he and Bokuto walked further away.

The moment your eyes met with his, you were seized by an uneasy feeling that gripped your chest like a vice. You were certain it was just a trick of the light, but you could have sworn those navy blues glowed with malicious red for a split second. The gasp that escaped you was followed by his mouth twitching into a knowing smile, like he was aware of the way imaginary flames seemingly scorched your heart at that same moment.

You crumpled to your knees, clutching your chest so hard, your knuckles turned white.

You were gasping for air without taking any breaths at all. It was as if someone poked holes into your lungs so you couldn't _breathe_. Itsumi dropped to the ground, slinging her arm across your shoulder to cradle your convulsing frame. She's shouting. Why was she shouting? Her voice sounded too far away for you to make sense of what she was saying, like you were separated by several layers of glass. 

You were vaguely aware of the rest of your teammates crowding around you, concern and fear lining each of their gazes. Someone was shaking you by the shoulders, but the only thing you could focus on was the retreating figure of a dark-haired setter.

The sight of him made you feel warm, _so_ warm... No. Something was _burning_ you. 

With your coherent thought process dismantled, it took you a moment to piece together that the scorching heat was coming from your wrist. Itsumi was arguing with someone. But you couldn't bring yourself to pay attention as you groggily raised your wrist above your face. There, you saw the small bell tied around it emanating a white hot glow. It looked so pure, so—

That's the last thing you remembered before the darkness engulfed your vision, leaving you at its mercy.


	2. Waxing Crescent

【 🌒 】

When you awaken, the sight that greeted you is of a ceiling you've woken up to almost every morning of your life.

"(Name)!" The frantic tone of your grandmother was enough to stun you into alertness, glancing her way as you wondered why she sounded so relieved. 

Her lips were stretched into a kind smile as she hovered over your futon, replacing the damp cloth you didn't even notice was on your forehead with a fresh one. The cool feeling of the fabric was more soothing than it should be, but you couldn't pay the sensation any mind because someone else was in the room with you. 

"How you do," greeted the gravelly voice of Fujimoto, one of the older monks at your family shrine. 

Confused, you hauled yourself by your elbows, wincing at the way your joints threatened to snap off if you weren't careful. Your mouth felt barren of moisture, but it's as if Fujimoto read your mind when he offered you a glass full of water. You hesitantly took it from him, bringing the rim to your lips as you took tiny sips. 

"Fujimoto-san just happened to pass by your school when he saw you being carried into an ambulance," your grandmother explained, the worry on her face enough to invoke guilt over something you didn't even remember. "The medics said that your vitals were normal, but you wouldn't wake up. He insisted to have you taken home, instead because he had...an idea of what came over you."

"What?" you managed weakly, turning to the elder man. "You know what happened to me today?" 

"Yesterday," he corrected. "You've been unconscious for more than twenty-four hours, young lady. Amatsuki-sama kept insisting for you to be brought to the hospital, but we all know your affliction is not a physical one." 

With furrowed brows, you finished the rest of your drink with a satisfied sigh, wiping the edge of your mouth as you asked, "Are you insinuating that I was hexed?" 

Fujimoto chuckled. "I'm not insinuating, I _know_ you were hexed. Your little friend, ah, what's her name? Fukuzawa?"

"Furukawa," you replied. "Furukawa Itsumi."

"Yeah, her. She told me that they saw your warding charm glowing like a LED bulb, or at least that's how that girl described it." The way Fujimoto was speaking with a taunting tone about Itsumi, as if him claiming you got hexed wasn't more outlandish, didn't sit well with you. "Well, that just means you were in close contact with a yokai, young lady."

Your heart stopped at that. "A...yokai?" 

Growing up in one of Tokyo's oldest shrines had its perks. Instead of child-friendly picture books, you grew up reading manuscripts that depicted the legendary creatures that lurked in your shrine's designated territory alongside your grandmother. She would teach you how to string a proper warding charm with the appropriate beads, for each one invoked protection that repelled specific entities. But for some reason, your grandmother gave you a charm with nothing else but a golden bell hanging from the blessed string. You glanced at the bracelet that still sat idly on your wrist. It looked like it always had been—just a harmless little bell on the string and not the glowing orb of light that nearly scorched your skin. 

Your grandmother never really told you what exactly it warded off, but apparently, you'd encountered it yesterday.

"The charms made by the Amatsuki Shrine were specifically made to keep yokai away. If it had been a vengeful ghost or an estranged deity, it wouldn't have reacted so strongly." There was a pause in Fujimoto's words, as he lowered his head in contemplation. But then, his eyes widened with a realization that you couldn't quite follow. He turned to your grandmother, face looking grim.

"Amatsuki-sama," he whispered. "Could it be...?"

You shot your grandmother a curious look, but you knew that she was actively avoiding your gaze. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, casting Fujimoto a look you weren't familiar with. 

Amatsuki Futaba, your grandmother, was the current elder of the Amatsuki shrine. She was in charge of putting things in order—seeing to the needs of shrine-goers, spearheading offerings to the lunar goddess, Tsukuyomi, and keeping the monks like Fujimoto in check. It was expected of her to uphold the strident focus of a leader, but she never once showed you that side of her directly.

To you, she was Futaba-obasan, who stood as both your mother and father in one. She brought up a troublesome child like you singlehandedly; cooking your meals, letting you learn of life's basic skills, taking great care of you, overall. And instead of appointing the other monks to do it, she was the one who taught you all about the Shinto beliefs that your shrine lived by. 

The love you had for your grandmother was like no other, and you could devote your entire life giving back everything she's done for you, and it still wouldn't be enough.

But why did it seem like she was hiding something from you?

"Fujimoto-san, it's getting very late," she spoke tersely. "I should see you to the gates." 

There was probably a protest resting on the elder man's tongue, but he decided to hold it back, letting slip a defeated sigh instead. He gathered his robes as he got up on the tatami, bowing respectfully towards your grandmother. "Thank you for the hospitality, Amatsuki-sama."

"No, thank _you_ for identifying the root of (Name)'s affliction so quickly." Your grandmother smiled kindly, working through worn joints as Fujimoto helped her to her feet. Before sliding the door to your room, she spared you a single glance. "I'll whip you up a nice, hot meal a little later, dear. Rest up and entertain yourself for a bit first." 

You nodded, not having planned on getting out of bed in the first place. As she and Fujimoto exited the room, you couldn't paint a reason for why the monk looked so...rattled at the sight of you. What did he mean by, "Could it be?" anyway? Could _what_ be? 

With a sigh, you removed the damp cloth on your forehead, hanging it by the mouth of the basin your grandmother left by your futon. The loss of the cool feeling made you aware of how hot your body felt. You must've caught a fever.

Resigning yourself to the fact that you couldn't do much while you were sick, you decided to turn on the TV, spending a significant amount of time sifting through the channels for anything that interested you. An old kids cartoon? Nope. A Thai soap opera you've seen a hundred times? Nope. An infomercial channel that promoted five different offers for the same washing machine? Definitely nope. A news report about an upcoming eclipse?

"Astronomers from the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency or JAXA have predicted the onset of a full lunar eclipse this October," the news anchor informed with a fake flair of interest in her tone. "Details about the eclipse will follow in a few weeks once JAXA sees more into the matter. Now for the weather."

Once the report was over, you glanced at the time displayed at the corner of the screen. Tuesday, 7:39 P.M., it said. You really _were_ out for a whole day. 

The sound of your door sliding back open startled you out of your disbelief. There, your grandmother carried a tray of what smelled like miso soup and a pitcher of water. She flashed you another one of her kind smiles, kneeling next to your futon before pouring you a glass.

"You said it would be a meal," you sulked, pouting. 

"Oh, hush, child. You were unconscious for so long, your stomach won't be able to handle it just yet." 

You chuckled at her words, grabbing the bowl to take a first taste of her recovery miso with a soup spoon. She made it taste less salty than what you're used to, probably out of her baseless concern for your stomach. The beefy aftertaste was a nice touch, though, and at least there were some tofu cubes to chew on. Contrary to your prior protests, you managed to finish the whole thing with not a slice of green onion left loitering in the bowl. 

"See, you'll survive without wolfing down a bowl gyudon right after you've just woken up," she said as you drank glass after glass of water. "I called both your school and your coach and told both that you wouldn't be able to come today and tomorrow, so you don't have to worry about your absences."

"You did that even if the lunar festival's coming up?" You gaped at her. "Oba-san, I _told_ you that you don't have to do everything yourself. You have a dozen monks to do your bidding."

Your grandmother sighed, patting your hair gently before attacking you with a chop to the head. You yelped in surprise, spilling a bit of water on yourself before rubbing the spot where she'd just hit you. 

"Monks are not employees I can just order around," she scolded. "You, of all people, should be familiar with the integrity of their work." 

"I know, but—" 

"Sleep," she said with the same authority you'd use on teammates who were being out of line. "You'll need to regain your strength. You have a competition in a few weeks." 

Your voice died in your throat, any objection you even planned on saying just melting on your tongue. She was right. You _hated_ that she was right. 

Once your grandmother gathered the tableware she'd migrated to your room, she felt for your temperature by placing the back of her hand on your neck. The frown on her face was clue enough of your condition. 

"You went through all of our Ibuprofen the last time you got sick, and I haven't had time to go to the drugstore, since," she sighed, getting up to go outside. "I'll have someone buy it for you tomorrow, if it makes you feel any better about me 'doing everything myself'." 

The grin that teased the corners of your mouth didn't go unnoticed by her. Your grandmother rolled her eyes, killing the lights in your room before you could even put out an off-handed remark. When you no longer heard the sound of her footsteps resounding from the hall, you turned your gaze to the open window outside, the only source of illumination.

Your house was perched on top of a tall hill that overlooked the rest of the bustling city down below. It was quieter here, and the sky was somewhat free of light pollution. A blanket of stars hovered overhead, each one seemingly winking at you from where you sat. The moon was barely a shy crescent tucked away in the darker corners of the sky—you nearly missed it. 

"Sorry, Tsukuyomi-sama," you mumbled, chuckling to yourself for apologizing to a goddess. "Didn't see you there." 

When you rolled over to your side, you fell asleep in minutes.

* * *

"You are a false prophet." 

_I'm not... Believe in me, please._

"How dare you claim to be of the lunar goddess' progeny when you look like _that_!"

 _No... Don't_ — _don't kill me. I mean no harm._

"Here and now, I vanquish thee!"

_It hurts! It hurts! Please, stop! Please. Please..._

"Without a heart, you have no power. Begone, demon, and never return."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com), where you can yell at me to update my fics (but please do it a little cordially), and a [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai) if you want to pitch in some Spare Change


	3. First Quarter

【 🌓 】

A few days passed by in a blur after your fainting spell at training. 

When you came back to school once you've fully recovered, Itsumi practically bawled her eyes out, sputtering apology after apology as if the reason for your absence was because she'd untied your laces. You could only console her awkwardly, explaining that, no, the untied shoelaces weren't the cause of your domino effect of misfortune.

For missed school work, your classmates had been kind enough to share their notes from the previous lessons you'd missed, filling you in on some of the upcoming requirements for the week. You only had two days' worth of backlog, but it was a _lot_. Thank god you were generally a likeable person.

"Yo, (Surname)!" 

In the middle of rewriting some missed notes, the familiar glee in Bokuto's voice sang in your ears. Your body reacted before your mind could, sending jolts of heat creeping up your face before you could even face him. The ace stood by your desk, and when you looked up, he was grinning like he'd just won the lottery. You weren't even _classmates_. What was he doing here?

"Bokuto-san," you breathed, hoping he won't comment on your flustered appearance. "Do you need anything? Ah, belated happy birthday, by the way."

Bokuto waved away your concern. "Thanks, but it's nothing. Heard that you blacked out the other day and I didn't even notice." His words were followed by the ace reaching a hand to scratch the back of his head apologetically. "If I'd known, I would've helped out."

You could feel your heart rate doubling at the sight of him apologizing for something that wasn't even remotely his fault. Why? Why was the universe orchestrating this interaction? Were they seriously trying to make you like him more?

"You don't have to feel guilty, you know," you chuckled, putting your pen down to face him directly. "You looking out for me is nice enough of you." 

"Heh, really?" A sheepish smile stretched across his mouth. "Akaashi kind of guilt-tripped me for being so dead-set with going home that day, that I was totally oblivious. And then..."

Akaashi. The mere name was enough to trigger a dull throb in your temples. Your memories of that day were still muddled, but there were a couple of things you recalled with striking clarity: your glowing charm, and Akaashi's apathetic gaze turning blood-red feral in the blink of an eye. 

When Fujimoto explained that you got hexed by a yokai, you didn't ponder about it too much—total recovery being your top priority during the past two days. But now that the topic of the seemingly ordinary second year had come into light once more, your instincts told you that he was, indeed, the cause of your so-called affliction. 

"You alright, (Surname)?" 

Blinking, you realized that you spaced out in the middle of Bokuto's rambling. He's gazing at you, golden eyes wide and head tilted to the side like a curious owl. 

"Um, yeah!" You followed that up with a nervous-sounding laugh. "I'm just swamped with all this school work, and I just don't know how to manage them all." 

"Ohhh," he drawled, nodding in understanding. "Well, I won't eat up any more of your time. See you around!"

Once that force of nature stepped outside of your classroom, you noticed that some of your classmates were casting you curious stares, whispering among themselves. Itsumi, who was grinning at you like a fox, just happened to be one of them.

You sighed, occupying yourself with your notes. Who knew what kind of ideas Bokuto's little chat had planted in your best friend's head? You didn't want to know, nor did you have the time for it. 

* * *

"You really didn't have to lead today's laps when you just got back, you know?" Coach Yamamoto told you off with a hint of a scolding in his words. "If you relapsed, I think the Amatsuki shrine might just have my head offered at the lunar festival." 

You humored him with a soft laugh as you squeezed what's left of the contents of your water bottle in your mouth. Wiping the excess moisture from your lips, you turned to your coach with a reassuring look. "I'll see to it that it doesn't happen, coach."

When he politely excused himself out of the conversation, you headed straight to the gym, where the rest of your teammates have just about finished showering. You looked around for a bit, and it seemed that the volleyball team finished early because it was only their manager and coach left inside along with the track team. You refused to acknowledge that the bite of disappointment that pricks your heart was because Bokuto wasn't around.

"Hey, (Name)! You gonna shower?" Itsumi called out from the bleachers as she towelled her damp hair. 

You shook your head, slinging your gym bag across your shoulder. "I just came in to check on you guys. Could you make sure everyone gets home safely? Oba-san's making me run errands for the festival."

Your best friend nodded. "Sure. I'll tell them to send updates to the group chat so you can see, too."

"Thanks. I owe you one, Sumi. Bye guys!" 

"Bye captain!" was the singsong response of the rest of your teammates who were waiting on the others. You smiled before turning on your heel to make your exit. 

The walk from Fukurodani to downtown Tokyo didn't take very long. You knew each nook and cranny like the back of your hand, and wading through the abundance of evening commuters didn't hassle you as much as any other person. Your grandmother had only told you to meet with her middleman somewhere near Ikebukuro station, and that you would definitely recognize the man when you see him. 

That didn't really offer enough clues about the middleman's identity, but as you neared the station, you were able to spot a middle-aged monk in traditional Shinto robes, carrying with him a gilded crate similar to the ones you've always seen in the shrine's offertory hall. He certainly stood out from everyone else in the vicinity.

"Takahashi-san?" you asked once you got close enough to speak to him.

The monk turned to you questioningly, but his eyes shone with recognition the following second. "Ah, Amatsuki-sama! The elder mentioned I would be meeting with someone who wore a charm." 

You blinked in confusion before glancing at the bell on your wrist. It tinkled with the slight motion, and you realized that he was talking about your bracelet. 

"Oh, I'm not an Amatsuki," you corrected sheepishly. "My grandmother just sent me out to get the...?"

"Omamori amulets?" Takahashi continued, chuckling as he turned the knob on the crate and lifted the cover. Inside, dozens upon dozens of _omamori_ or protection amulets were safely sealed in bubble wrap packaging. Each pouch came in a plethora of colors and patterns on the fabric, and you found yourself gaping slightly at the beautiful designs.

When Takahashi sealed the crate shut once again, he handed it to you like its contents were fragile. You half-expected for it to be quite heavy, but it was lighter than you thought!

"I apologize for mistaking you for Anri-sama," he said, the name catching your attention. "You're her daughter, yes? You do look very much alike." 

The mention of your mother made your heart sink, but Takahashi probably had a long way to go back. Your grandmother _did_ say he was from one of the sacred shrines in the Fuji mountains. He didn't have the time to hear your tragic backstory. 

"Thank you for going all the way here, Takahashi-san. Our shrine is looking forward to giving these to our visitors." You bowed politely. "I'll be on my way, and I hope you make it safely back, as well."

"May the gods favor you," he imparted with a gentle smile. 

* * *

When the weekend rolled by, you found yourself climbing up the moss-coated pathway that led to the highest point of the hill. You'd just finished eating dinner with your grandmother before excusing yourself to go up to the cemetery to do some contemplating. The worried look that creased her brow once you said the words was an expression you'd prefer for her not to make, but you've been itching to go back up here since meeting up with Takahashi last week.

The rusty, metal gates creaked with age when you nudged it open with your foot. After, no other sound followed. It was just you under the watchful gaze of the half-filled moon, standing before the grave of several of your shrines followers. 

You breathed in the rich scent of the earth before treading forward. 

Most people would be unnerved to be walking alone in a cemetery at night, of all times. You understood why. It was like time simply stopped flowing for both those buried beneath the ground where you stood, and the area itself. The air was stale and the leaves underfoot fell apart much quicker than those scattered in the lower parts of the hill. The grass seemed like it's been a while since it was last watered, leaving the shrivelled up blades decaying at your feet.

But not once did you ever feel a surge of fear whenever you paid your parents a visit. 

"I'm back," you said, kneeling before their graves as you clasped your hands together to offer up a quick prayer. There were no incense sticks to light up, no offerings to be made. Your grandmother said that her daughter hated receiving things she couldn't give back to, and you respected that preference up until now. 

Amatsuki Anri and (Surname) Kazunari died in an accident about sixteen years ago—too long ago for you to remember. You'd been in the same car with them on that fateful night, but you miraculously survived; having been protected by your mother until the very end. Though you had no actual attachment to your parents, you were still grateful to them for bringing you into this world, and for saving you as well. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the way a gust of wind rustled the nearby trees; didn't notice the figure emerging from the forest your grandmother warned you to stay away from. Akaashi observed you with rapt attention, blue eyes never missing a motion made. You were speaking to a couple of stones, and though he found the practice quite useless—for lifeless objects did not have the capacity to speak back—he's witnessed hundreds of humans in his lifetime do the same thing. 

When the demon announced his presence, you were quick to identify where he was. Akaashi frowned. For a human, you were awfully perceptive. 

"Y-You..." your voice trembled, and for the first time, dread settled in the pit of your stomach, creeping up your skin in the form of gooseflesh. "You were the one who hexed me!"

Akaashi cocked his head to the side. " _Hexed_ you? Yokai do not have such capabilities. It seemed to me that your body simply reacted to my presence is all. Oh, and so did that little warding charm, I suppose."

Your arm jerked away instinctively when you felt the familiar heat searing your skin. But the sensation wasn't as severe as the last time—the charm's glow having been contained into a small prick of light. With a grimace, you turned to look up at Akaashi, who seemed so normal, so unassuming that you never would have guessed what he actually was.

"Why are you pretending to be a human?" you asked, knowing full well that further interactions with yokai would only lead to your demise. "Is there something you're after?" 

In lieu of an actual response, Akaashi took it upon himself to walk closer to you. However, the closer he got, the hotter and brighter the charm glowed on your wrist. You hissed, attempting to undo the knots of the bracelet until the bell simply stopped glowing. You muttered a confused, "what?" before turning to Akaashi, who was barely a meter in front of you. 

"Were you _really_ about to take off your only line of defense in the face of a yokai?" he chuckled. "Humans really are strange, indeed." 

You inched away from him slowly, but each step you took back, he closed the distance with a step forward—trapping you in between him and your parents' gravestones.

"We've been going to the same school for two years," he began, taking your hand in his. "Didn't you ever wonder why that charm of yours never tried to repel me before?" 

You were too stunned to take your hand out of his grasp, but you took note of how deceivingly smooth his skin was. When you didn't respond to his question, Akaashi heaved a sigh, tracing each of your fingers with a gentleness that yokai shouldn't have.

"I can conceal my demonic presence so warding charms like that do not react to me," he explained. "The only reason it did the last time was because I _wanted_ to alert you of my presence."

"Y-You still haven't answered my question," you told him, praying to the gods that he didn't hear the terror in your voice.

Akaashi sighed, carding his free hand through his messy hair. "Impatient little creatures, aren't you all? But I suppose it's fair. Your time on this earth is awfully limited." He then lifted your hand up to his chest, flattening the palm on the firm surface. For someone who seemed slender, Akaashi's chest was certainly toned underneath his shirt. You could feel yourself flush at the idea of feeling up an athlete like him, but there was something amiss—something that should be there but wasn't.

"You don't have..." The realization dawned on you, turning your gaze frigid. "You don't have a _heartbeat_."

"That, I do not," he affirmed, loosening his grip on your hand so that it fell to your side. 

You were gaping at Akaashi like he's grown two heads. Though yokai were an entirely different race, they still needed a heart to be able to use their powers. If Akaashi was able to conceal his presence at will and assume the form of a human all without a heart, then he must be someone powerful; someone you never should have involved yourself with.

"Who are you?" you whispered, almost fearing to hear his answer. 

Instead of morphing into his original form to kill you on the spot like you expected him to, Akaashi spared you a lopsided smile. He shoved his hands in his pockets, turning around while waving a hand in farewell. 

"If you want to know, meet me here tomorrow night, where the moon shines brightest." His words were obscured by the sudden breeze that howled in your direction, but you managed to understand, still. The wind cut through your face sharply enough for you to shield it with your hands, screwing your eyes shut. It roared in your ears, and you genuinely wondered if you were ever going to go home tonight. 

Suddenly, the gale died down. When you lowered your hands and opened your eyes, there was no trace of the boy who'd been here just a minute ago.

It was just you under the watchful gaze of the half-filled moon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping updates consistent because the moment I lose the drive to write this fic, it won't ever get finished LMAO


	4. Waxing Gibbous

【 🌔 】

"Oi, are you even listening?"

The feeling of someone jostling you by the shoulder was enough to zap you back into consciousness. You blinked in nonplus for a few seconds before remembering that, ah, the coach was talking to the team. The track meet was scheduled in a few weeks. Itsumi was staring at you like you were a specimen from another dimension.

"If Coach Yamamoto catches you sneaking in some Z's while he's talking, I bet he won't let even _you_ off the hook," she reminded, concern lacing her tone. "Seriously, (Name). What've you been doing lately? You've been out of it since Monday. Are you sure you didn't get a concussion?"

The accusation earned her a light smack on the leg as you shifted your sitting position on the grounds. The sun had long sunken into the horizon, and the only available illumination were the lamp posts scattered around the oval. Coach Yamamoto was standing underneath one of them as he gave Fukurodani's track team a much needed pep-talk before the hellish training regimen began. 

"Third years, if you're still pursuing track in college, you best give it your all next week," he imposed, voice gruff with flaky encouragement. "Collegiate level competitions don't have room for athletes with subpar records. That reminds me..."

 _And_ you felt your eyelids drooping again, each word the coach was saying sounding farther and farther away, until you heard nothing at all.

* * *

"I didn't expect you to come."

Akaashi stood by the entrance to the cemetery, still wearing his training clothes as he brandished you with a disconcerted look. You frowned. He was the one who told you to meet him here, yet it was like he seemed disappointed that you showed up.

"There's a yokai wandering around the shrine's designated territory, _of course_ I'd be concerned," you huffed, tugging on the hem of your sweater. It was colder out tonight, and you felt somewhat more safe if Akaashi didn't directly look at the charm on your wrist. 

The demon stared at you, as if expecting something more. "Hm? If you really were alarmed by my existence, wouldn't you have told your grandmother already? Or any of the monks, at least?" 

His retort made you swallow the lump in your throat. Were yokai naturally adept with appraising the ulterior motives of humans? But why would you even think that you could one-up a demon, of all creatures? You sighed, realizing the futility of keeping up appearances as you cleared your throat uneasily. 

"There's a couple of benches near the cliffside," you told him, gaze shying away from his blue-eyed stare. "I'd like to...know more about you." 

Akaashi breathed out a soft laugh, amusement painting itself on his face. "A human whose first instinct isn't to kill a yokai? Or at least run from it? You really are something else." 

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" 

As the two of you made your way past the run-down cemetery, you watched the way moonlight drew forth the sharp angles of Akaashi's face. You wondered if he'd only stolen the identity of another human, or if he really did look like that in his true form. Nonetheless, he had flawless taste for his disguises, that's for sure. Right now, you didn't feel the warning pulse of the charm on your wrist. He must have toned down his presence to pass as human. 

"It depends on who's asking, really," he said as the two of you settled on the crumbling stone benches nestled between two faded gravestones. You muttered a quiet apology for the intrusion, hoping whoever was buried underneath wouldn't mind a yokai trespassing on their final resting place. 

"So," you began, eyes trained on the overcast sky above. No stars were out tonight, nor did Tsukuyomi take a peek at the land below. "What's your deal? Why aren't you going on a killing spree like yokai usually do when they're smart enough not to get caught by the monks."

He groaned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Do me a favor and don't compare me to fledgelings like those. If we live long enough, carnage eventually bores even the worst of us."

You nodded in understanding, taking each word to heart. There was something soothing about his voice—like it could lull you to sleep if you weren't careful. 

_This is how idiots get killed in horror movies_ , you reminded yourself. _Villains were_ supposed _to make you let your guard down so they could take you out when you're most vulnerable._

But for some reason, the word _villain_ didn't quite suit Akaashi. Not because he wore the face of a meek-looking human. No, it was more of a gut feeling. Your grandmother _did_ tell you to trust your gut when all was lost. 

"Where do you live?" you asked him. "Here? On top of the hill?" 

He shook his head, resting his palms on his knees. "I'm staying with a human family who thinks they have a son." When you shot him a pensive stare, he gave you a tight-lipped smile as he backtracked with, "No harm will come to them, I promise." 

You knew that you shouldn't take his word for it, but still, your shoulders relaxed with the assurance. "What are you doing here, then?"

"I told you," he said, stretching out his long limbs as he stared upward. "The moon shines brightest here."

His words didn't hold the same impact as they would have if the sky was clear tonight. You gazed up to the heavens, where clouds still obscured the wonderful view behind it. If you asked what's so special about the place where the moon shines brightest, you already knew he was only going to give you the vaguest of answers. 

"You're still avoiding the million dollar question, though," you sighed, shifting in your seat as you gazed at the city of Tokyo from your generous vantage point.

"You _did_ ask me a lot of those," Akaashi pointed out. "Which one do I answer first? Who am I? Why don't I have a heart? Or what's my deal? Pick wisely. I think I'm in the mood to answer only one."

Huh. It seemed that some yokai have a sense of humor after all. A soft laugh rumbled in your chest as you mindlessly kicked away a pebble on the ground, having made up your mind before he even asked.

"...Why don't you have a heart?"

The silence that settled between the both of you rang in your ears. Akaashi's eyes flashed with an emotion you couldn't quite identify as he heaved a long breath. It took him a moment to respond. You were about to tell him that he didn't have to answer but he beat you to it when he told you:

"Simple. A human stole it from me." 

* * *

"Is there something you're not telling me, (Name)?" 

You knew that the only reason why Itsumi was being this inquisitive was simply because she was looking after you. She hadn't been wrong when she'd pointed out earlier that you were drifting in and out of focus since the beginning of the week. It was Wednesday now, and your condition hadn't improved. Probably because of the lack of sleep you were getting. 

But Itsumi didn't have to know about that. 

"It's just gotten a bit busy at the shrine lately, Sumi," you explained, which technically wasn't a lie. With the festival pushing through tomorrow evening, you took it upon yourself to help out as much as you could. Your grandmother even put you in charge of coordinating with the food stalls and game booths that were going to do business at the foot of the hill. 

Itsumi hummed in contemplation, affixing you with a dubious stare before slinging her bag over her shoulder. "If you say so..."

"Oi, (Surname)!" 

He couldn't have picked a worse time to drop by than now. With a sigh, you turned around to face Bokuto, who seemed fresh out of training just like you and Itsumi. But even if he's been worn down by rigorous volleyball practice, he still had it in him to grin at you like his wellspring of energy was yet to run out. Behind him, trailed his eternal plus one, Akaashi, who had a mask of neutrality secured on his face.

He was also the main reason why you couldn't sleep at night. 

In your last meeting, his answer to one of your many questions only gave rise to a dozen more (Who did it? How long has it been? How are you still alive?), all of which the yokai was unwilling to answer. 

You couldn't exactly corner him at school either. It would be too obvious if you suddenly just approached the second year, whom you've never interacted with outside your strange circumstances, out of nowhere. So that resulted in the previous nights spent tossing and turning in your futon, your mind grasping at answers it couldn't reach. 

"Bokuto-san, hello," you greeted with as much cheer as you could manage. "What's up?"

"Your shrine's holding the lunar festival next week, right?" he asked, eyes as expectant as a child's on Christmas.

"Um, yes. Why are you asking?" 

If it was even possible, his grin only scaled wider. "I think I attended the festival as a kid back then. I kind of want to remember what it's like, is all! You mind showing me around?" 

You could practically hear Itsumi internally squealing right next to you when your best friend turned around to bury her face in her hands. Though, you weren't in any better condition. 

"Bokuto-san," you began, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. "Are you asking me to go with you to the lunar festival?" 

"Eh? Was I not clear enough?" The ace cocked his head slightly, puzzled. 

"She'll go," Itsumi answered before you could even process his words. "Wear a red kimono—it's good luck!"

"What? Really?" Bokuto gaped, nodding profusely at Itsumi's words. "Furukawa, thanks for the tip! I'll—I'll go shopping right away. Akaashi, let's go!"

"Bokuto-san, do you really have to drag me everywhere you go," drawled the setter, shooting him a distasteful look. You found it quite amusing, really. How a yokai like Akaashi was being strung around so easily by Bokuto. It was like the ace had a higher power over—

_Wait a minute._

"See you tomorrow, (Surname)!" the wing spiker announced, waving a hand goodbye towards you and Itsumi. Your best friend returned his greeting with a nod, but you were too stunned with your new-found realization to do the same. 

"Sumi, I'll go on ahead," you mumbled half-heartedly as your feet began moving more out of instinct than anything else. 

Your best friend called out from behind you, but you couldn't spare Itsumi any explanations; not with the burning need to confront Akaashi before Bokuto completely snags him away was gnawing at you. The duo were walking at a leisurely pace ahead, just a few meters from the gym's entrance. Akaashi retained his neutral facade as Bokuto chattered about something you couldn't quite catch because—

"Akaashi," you spoke, seizing the setter's wrist. He blinked in surprise, turning to you with a question in his eyes. "Can we talk for a minute? It's important." 

Bokuto was alternating his gaze in between you and the team's setter, brows furrowed at having been left out with whatever you were discussing. "Akaashi, what's (Surname) talking about?" 

A conflicted look flashed across Akaashi's face for a sliver of a moment, so brief you would've missed it if you weren't staring at him dead in the eye. He was studying you intently, possibly surmising all the ways he could murder you and get away with it in his head. Wait, no. Akaashi wasn't like that. 

Yet...

"Bokuto-san, you'll have to head on without me," he conceded with a sigh. "I'll accompany you for kimono shopping some other time." 

The ace visibly depleted at Akaashi's decision, lip swelled into a pout. You could feel a pang of guilt rippling in your chest at the sight, but this was for his own good. You were doing this to _protect_ him. 

Once Bokuto was out of earshot (after _five_ minutes of convincing him that he didn't have to worry about anything) and you've moved someplace more private, you brandished Akaashi with a hard glare. "It's him, isn't it?"

His brows were knit with confusion. "I'm afraid I don't follow." 

"Don't play games with me, _yokai_ ," you hissed, the word tasted like venom on your tongue. "I've got you all figured out."

Despite your display of aggression, Akaashi didn't even seem the least bit threatened. He merely stood in front of you with folded arms, the lacking illumination making his already indecipherable expressions harder to read. But you heard the low rumble of a laugh emitting from him before he breathed out a long exhale. 

"I've been alive for centuries, but not one human has ever had the guts to tell me they've 'got me all figured out'," he said, an amused smile grazing his face. You could feel rage bubbling in your chest as your fists shook with irritation. Was he even taking you seriously?!

"You did all this to—to get close to him. You went out of your way, even stooping down to our level, because Bokuto-san has your heart, doesn't he?" You made a beeline for the point of the matter, your gut insisting that you won't get anywhere if you wasted more time. "I don't know how that could have happened but..." 

Your voice trailed off, giving him a silent leeway to explain himself. Why were you even giving him a chance at redemption? The truth was baring its fangs at you right there!

But still...

You couldn't picture the boy that sat down with you by the cliffside just killing Bokuto out of cold blood to get his heart back. The fact that he hadn't permanently silenced you for simply knowing his identity was a testament to his intentions, as well. The yokai you've heard about in stories and legends weren't as lenient like Akaashi was being with you and, frankly, his charitable behavior was scaring you more than it would if he acted in-character. 

Akaashi spared you a lopsided smile, staring upward at the moon overhead. The gibbous was yet to reach completion, and for a moment, you wondered if the full moon would land on the day of the lunar festival itself. 

"You have the right idea, at least," the setter relented. "My heart is breathing life into a human being right now and they don't have the slightest idea about it." 

"So—"

"But it isn't Bokuto-san."

That was all it took for the ire in your veins to die down. You stared at Akaashi unblinkingly, letting his words sink in. It wasn't Bokuto. It wasn't him, yet you went ahead and accused him so boldly. Horror painted itself on your face before you bowed your head in sheer embarrassment—apologies spilling from your lips right after the other. 

"But...why are you by his side all the time if he doesn't have what you wanted?" you wondered. 

"I'm glad you asked," Akaashi chuckled. "I think you've observed how energetic Bokuto-san is on the regular, yes? That aura translates into the realm of spirits as well. Imagine his aura as a force field of sorts—if I cloak myself in his energy, my presence will be even more muted than it already is. Take it as an extra precaution, if you may."

You titled your head to the side. "But why would you need protection when—"

"Is someone back there?"

The sound of the night-shift guard's voice had you on high-alert in a split second, and you ducked behind one of the nearby trees, pulling Akaashi with you. The trunk wasn't a very good hiding place, since you had to press Akaashi closer to your frame so neither of you would get caught. You silenced your breathing as much as you could, straining your ears for the sound of the guard's footsteps. When you were sure he'd left to patrol the other areas in school, you heaved a sigh of relief.

That's when you noticed how close Akaashi's face was to yours. 

"Why were you acting like a serial killer was out to get us," he asked, mouth twisting into a sneer. His pearly white teeth glinted in the moonlight, and you felt yourself becoming ensnared with his navy-eyed gaze for a moment. 

"U-Uh, no. Sorry. It's just that the guards are really strict with PDA, and we were kind of in a compromising position—two teenagers doing god-knows-what in the dark, and all," you explained, springing away from Akaashi as you hoped that he didn't notice the stutter in your words.

Your reasons had some weight in them, too. You've learned your lesson from the time you brought Kazuto here to talk to him about his previously rocky relationship with the rest of the team. The night shift guards never let you hear the end of that.

"I see," the setter replied. "Well, is there anything else you would like to accuse me of before I go?" 

"I would like to accuse you of being a smartass," you bit back. 

Akaashi smiled as he began walking away. "So I've been told."

As you watched him go further and further away, the question that rested at the back of your throat itched to be articulated. Gulping, you ran towards him without another thought, hyper-aware of how loud your shoes were hitting the pavement. Akaashi turned around to face you with curiosity brimming his eyes, and you stopped right in front of him. 

"When you find the person who has your heart," you began, your own heart thundering in your rib cage. "What are you going to do?" 

The look he gave you was somber for a fleeting moment before Akaashi assumed his mask of neutrality once more. He avoided your gaze, looking up at the sky instead. 

"Take it back, of course." 


	5. Full Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I made a silly error with the lore I've been building up here. Turns out, Tsukuyomi the moon deity is actually depicted as male in Japanese mythology, and— [head in hands]. It would mean the world if you all just swept reality under the rug for a moment for the sake of the plot of this story [sweats]. I've pretty much just bullshitted most of the mythology in this story anyway.
> 
> ALSO! Warning tags: mild(?) depictions of gore in the latter part of this chapter.

【 🌕 】

"This week's lunar eclipse was reported to be a total eclipse! The shadow of the sun will engulf the moon completely—what a sight to see, indeed!"

"Bah," your grandmother scoffed through the sound of sautéing ingredients as she switched off the TV. "News channels poison the minds of people, anyway." 

You gaped at her incredulously from where you sat on the dining table. "Oba-san, I was watching that!" 

The older woman tutted at you as she transferred the leftover rice from last night onto the frying pan. "You know eclipses are a bad omen, and these people intend to say otherwise."

"Ba-san, not everybody lives by the Tsukuyomi traditions—"

"Do you want some sukonbu flakes on your gohan?" 

"I—yes, please."

When your grandmother was done cooking breakfast for the day, she laid out two bowls of gohan, each topped with a raw egg in the middle. The scent of the freshly fried rice wafted to your nose, and you immediately forgot about your prior sulking because of how delectable your food looked like. As you reached for the soy sauce to encourage more flavor, however, your grandmother took your hand in hers, shooting you a stern look.

"Don't go out on the night of the eclipse," she said. "It's been a while since I've last seen one, but it always preceded misfortune."

Confused, you asked, "How long ago is 'a while', oba-san?" 

Instead of humoring you with a proper answer, she merely chuckled at the inquiry as she sat down right across from you. "It doesn't matter. Just stay in the house, alright? It's a good thing it didn't land on the day of the festival, itself."

Knowing it would be no use arguing with her, you exhaled a sigh of defeat once you've dripped enough soy sauce onto your food. The snap of wooden chopsticks rang in your ears as you let anticipation swell in your chest. Was it just you or was the egg yolk seemingly glittering in the morning daylight?

"Thank you for the meal!"

* * *

Japanese Literature was easily your most favorite subject because of two reasons. 

The first was that you were already familiar with most of the topics listed off in the course module already. _Genji Monogatari_ was one of the first books your grandmother had given to you as a child, and she'd be the one to help you out with understanding the difficult words. But even if you've spent a majority of your life with your nose stuffed in books and manuscripts snagged from the shrine's old storage room, there was still a lot more to learn—about the vast, hidden truths of the world that still eluded you. 

That's where the second reason came in. 

"The moon goddess, Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto, was born from the right eye of the creator, Izanagi-no-Mikoto; while her brother, Amaterasu-omikami was born from his left eye," your teacher drawled out the facts you already knew from the pocketbook in his hands. The disinterested set of his brow was clue enough of how much he would rather be doing anything else other than spitting out excerpts from Japanese mythology in front of high schoolers. 

It was last period for you, and even though you were normally motivated to listen despite your teacher's apathy for the course, you were feeling the fatigue you've accumulated from training slowly catching up to you. Fukurodani was a powerhouse when it came to its sports teams, and the reputation that you had to uphold was a heavier burden than getting remarkable official records for future reference. Though Coach Yamamoto was usually lenient, he'd already transformed into his demon coach persona at the beginning of the week. 

But after you've zoned into your own thoughts for a good twenty minutes, your teacher managed to yank you back into attentiveness when he'd tackled the topic of yokai. 

"In more popular literature, yokai were commonly depicted as grotesque creatures that consume human flesh," he began, "but there have been several tales that told of those able to take on the form of human beings; making it much easier for them to prowl across the land unnoticed." 

_Hm. Sounds like a certain, unsuspecting second year to me._

"However, even though they use deception as their means of getting by, those yokai still revert back to their true forms under specific circumstances. For children of the first Tengu, they are quite susceptible to rain. Once it begins to pour from the heavens, their disguises wear off at the snap of a finger." 

Your brows knit together in curiosity. Akaashi was one of those shape shifters, then. But if that tale applied to all shape-shifting yokai, what could Akaashi's trigger be?

Shaking your head, you proceeded jotting down the assignment that your teacher began scribbling on the chalkboard once he's gone over the topic. It wasn't something that should warrant your interest. Strictly speaking, you weren't even _friends_ with Akaashi. You were just someone who'd managed to figure out what he was. That was all there was to it.

Yet, a few hours later, once you'd gotten your fresh taste of your demon coach's training regimens, you found yourself waiting by the school gates.

As you bounced impatiently on the balls of your feet, jamming your hands in the pockets of your track jacket to distract yourself somehow, your gaze darted every now and again at the other students that also stayed behind for club activities. There was still no sign of the volleyball team. 

In hindsight, you could have just hung around in the gym, waiting for them to finish. Bokuto's admirers did it all the time, so why couldn't the captain of the track team do the same? Ah, right.

You still couldn't bear to look Bokuto in the eye after he'd asked you to go with him to the lunar festival.

How on Earth could you face him eye-to-eye after that? Why would he even ask you, of all people, in the first place? You've been giving Itsumi the cold shoulder for the past few days, too. How dare she tell the ace to get a red kimono when your favorite kimono was patterned after crimson cherry blossoms?! 

"(Surname)-san?" 

You didn't know how your instinctive reaction to Akaashi's voice would reflect on the way you supposedly saw him as, but in your defense, you were surprised by how he addressed you. The setter was donned in his school uniform, and he didn't have the air of someone who'd just gotten out of volleyball practice.

"A-Akaashi," you stuttered, hoping it wasn't glaringly obvious that you were waiting for him in particular. "You weren't at training?" 

His brows were raised with subtle curiosity before he shook his head. "My class has a production coming up, and it costs about seventy percent of our final grade. Coach Yamiji allowed me some time off." 

"Oh," the word tumbled pathetically from your lips, before you cleared your throat. "I-I see. You're quite diligent, huh? I mean, for a yokai blending in as a—"

"(Surname)-san," Akaashi interrupted warily, and you were immediately struck by the awareness of how loud your voice was. Getting his plea, you toned down your voice a couple of notches lower.

"I still find it kind of interesting, you know." Chuckling, you folded your arms across your chest. "From what you told me, I think you're someone ancient. You could track down whoever has your heart in no time and you wouldn't have to subject yourself to mundane things like that." 

Akaashi merely stared at you with the same, navy-eyed gaze before his line of sight darted around the vicinity. Then, he beckoned you to come closer. When you leaned your ear next to his face, the setter whispered, "(Surname)-san, I would appreciate it if you didn't disclose such information out in the open." 

"It's not like anyone's listening," you argued, pouting at him. "By the way, I have something to ask you." 

"Does your curiosity have no bounds?" He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You'd only noticed it now, but there were traces of fatigue on his face that you would've missed if you hadn't looked so closely. You almost felt bad for cornering him like this, but...

"Can you show me your true form?" 

Something flashed across his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it surfaced, and now Akaashi was just staring at you like he was just _done_ with your demands. 

"You know, I only ever meet extremely infuriating humans one after the other," he told you, dragging a palm across his face. "But it seems like the gods are subjecting me to the punishment of handling both you and Bokuto-san at the same time."

You snorted out an ugly-sounding laugh, covering your mouth to somehow stifle your giggles. "I _told_ you, you didn't have to do any of this kiss-ass shit. You could just—"

"You wanted to see my true form, didn't you?" 

The tone of his voice had dipped into something more serious—one that you're unused to hearing from him when you were talking alone. Before getting to know Akaashi as well as you have now, he had just been the apathetic vice captain of the volleyball team. But from the short time you've spent with him, you figured that there was certainly more depth to his personality than he was letting on. 

Yet now, he's talking to you just how he would address any other student in Fukurodani. Your smile receded slowly. Somehow, you didn't like that.

"Yeah," you replied with a lackluster intonation you hadn't meant to make. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you actually... _cared_ about the way he talked to you. You didn't, and that was that. 

With a sigh, Akaashi tilted his head up so that he was glancing at the sky. You noticed that he did that a lot—looking up at the heavens like it gave him answers you didn't know he was looking for. 

When the yokai met your gaze again, no longer did you see the soothing, gunmetal blue of the human whose skin he wore like it was his own. Deep, vermillion eyes bore into you so intently, you could feel him gazing at your very soul—bare, and without any chance of deceit.

"Meet me at the cemetery on the first night of the full moon," he said, voice almost sounding ethereal in your ears, like his voice wasn't his at all. "I'll show you what you want to see so badly."

* * *

A few days passed since that strange encounter with Akaashi, and you haven't heard from the yokai since. Every time you tried getting a glimpse of him from outside the gym, it was either he was always out of sight or he just wasn't there to begin with. You'd even asked Kazuto, who turned out to be classmates with Akaashi, a thing or two about the said setter, but it seemed that he's called in sick for the past few days because of a nasty cold.

Yokai don't catch colds.

Nonetheless, you found yourself thinking of him less and less as the lunar festival drew closer. Your grandmother insisted that you focus on training for the track meet instead of concerning yourself with the preparations no matter how much you protested. 

"You're only young for a brief time, child," she had told you. "It's your last year in high school, so you better enjoy the festival with your little friends before you all head your separate ways. Leave it to the monks and volunteers to work behind the scenes."

Seeing no point in going against her wishes, that's exactly what you did.

"Hey, (Name)! Over here!" At the bottom of the stairway that led to the Amatsuki shrine, you saw Itsumi and Kazuto idling by as your vice captain frantically waved her hands to get your attention. Overlooking the secondhand embarrassment, you picked up the pace of your descent. 

Once you've managed to join them, Kazuto whistled out loud. "Looking great, cap!"

The compliment urged you to look down on your own get-up. You looked just as you did every year whenever the lunar festival came around, since you've always opted to wear the cherry blossom kimono that used to belong to your mother. But Kazuto was probably talking about the moon pin your grandmother had insisted on styling your hair with. 

It was designed to look like a branch of a sakura tree dipped in silver with a crescent moon embossed in the middle. You had no time left to ask where she got it from and why she gave it you since you were running a bit late on your agreed meet-up time with the team.

"No flirting with senpais, Kazu," scolded Itsumi as she playfully smacked the younger boy across his back. "But he does have a point, though. You look _spicy_ tonight, (Name)!"

"Sumi, I worry about you sometimes."

"Hey!"

Wading through the throng of visitors in the courtyard was none other than Bokuto, himself. His grin was as bright as the lanterns strung above the venue, the golden lights shining down on him like he was the most important person out there. Or maybe that was just because your rose-colored vision was specifically catered for the said ace. When he'd managed to squeeze past the crowd, he breathed out a sigh in relief, wiping a sheen of sweat off his forehead.

"What do you think?" he asked, twisting around to show off his outfit. "I kind of had to compromise with the hakama, but the haori's red, just like Furukawa said—"

"Bokuto-san," you breathed, feeling your heart flutter at his effort alone, "you look great."

The ace blinked at you like he wasn't used to receiving compliments on the daily. It was probably just the lanterns messing with your eyes, but was he...blushing?

"So do you," he laughed. "I didn't know we were matching!"

"I didn't either," you replied, shooting Itsumi a narrow-eyed glare, to which your best friend responded by incessantly tugging on your wrist. 

"Come on, you idiots!" Itsumi hollered as you let her drag you to the concessionaire stands. "Last one to get to the goldfish catching booths will treat everyone to candied apples!"

* * *

"I forgot how enjoyable these festivals really were."

Your ears perked up at the sound of Bokuto's voice. Sparing the ace a sideways glance, you sighed out a long breath as you propped your chin on top of your knees. "I'm glad we managed to remind you, then." 

The two of you were seated on the stone steps just under the torii gates that led up to the shrine. Most of the festival's visitors have already gone up to see the shrine elder's (in this case, your grandmother's) annual performance of the lunar dance. It was dedicated to Tsukuyomi herself so that the shrine and its followers would see good fortune for the months ahead. Itsumi and Kazuto have gone ahead of the both of you, but you'd insisted on staying behind for a while.

But you didn't know that Bokuto would like to keep you company, too.

"Something on your mind?" he wondered, inching a bit closer. "You've been kinda distracted."

As you trained your gaze on the younger visitors that were still trying their hand at catching goldfish at the kingyo booths below, you breathed out an airy chuckle. "Sorry. Was I that obvious?"

"Not really," he said. "Call it a gut feeling." 

"Gut feeling, huh..."

Your gut was telling you right now that you were forgetting something...something important.

But when you turned to glance at Bokuto once again, his mouth was perked up in a lopsided smile that sent a flush of heat crawling up to your cheeks. You've always found his honey-eyed gaze endearing, and knowing that he had his eyes trained on you? Under the light of the moon? The shoujo manga protagonist in you practically jumped—

_Meet me at the cemetery on the first night of the full moon_

"Bokuto-san," you mumbled as you shot up to your feet, startling the ace as you shot your gaze up to the sky. The moon was in perfect form today, shining oh-so brightly in the sea of stars. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I-I'll... _I'm sorry_."

You forced out the sound of Bokuto calling out your name from your mind, pushing down the guilt that might fester for later. Your wooden sandals collided with each step in a way that sounded like cannons in your ears. Your heart was beating abnormally fast, just like when you're trying to best another runner at a track meet. Akaashi, who's been missing in action for days now. Akaashi, who looked like he was losing his grip on his own sanity the last time you saw him. Akaashi, who was probably waiting for you at the top of the hill.

You had been the one that coerced him into this agreement, yet it slipped your mind?

When you made it to the shrine, you caught a glimpse of your grandmother's lunar dance in the blink of your eye. She faltered in her movements for a split second. Had you not spent your entire life watching her practice every year, you would've overlooked it. But it seemed that she'd noticed you darting through the audience even if you were cloaked in the darkness. You already knew you were getting a thorough questioning later, but that was at the bottom of your priorities right now.

 _There's something wrong_ , you thought. _I don't know how, but something's wrong._

You pushed the gate to the cemetery back without care for the rust that coated your fingers. The foreboding was rooted deep into the pits of your heart, and you couldn't placate yourself no matter how many times you told yourself it was probably nothing. Even if you were running out of breath (which _terrified_ you because it took a lot to make you breathless in training), you called out to the yokai.

"Akaashi!" you called out, placing your hands by your mouth to articulate your voice louder. "Are you here?"

The moonlight spilled onto the cemetery startlingly bright, illuminating the gravestones in place in a way you hadn't seen them before. As you passed by your parents' graves, muttering a quick prayer in the process, you began trekking further into the area—towards the forest that you were told to never set foot in. 

The shade of the trees seemed thicker, they loomed higher than you thought they would. At the corner of your eye, you would see the shadows scuttling about, only to be met with nothing but a leaf wafting in the air when you turned around to look. The fear factor was maxed out at this point. But even if your mind yelled for you to turn around, and that you shouldn't even be here, your heart told you that you were exactly where you're supposed to be.

After a few minutes of blindly walking in the darkness, you saw the light of the moon once more as you emerged into a clearing. In the middle of it all, kneeling in a pool of blood, was Akaashi.

Or at least, you _assumed_ it was Akaashi. 

The humanoid creature had its back turned you, like it was preoccupied with something else. Its naked skin was as white as the snow that coated the shrine grounds on the first day of winter, but the mop of unruly hair on top of its head resembled Akaashi's. With blood roaring in your ears, you slowly flanked the creature from the side in attempt of getting a better look. But the sight that greeted you was something that would be burned in the back of your mind for eternity.

It— _Akaashi_ —had a pair of horns jutting out from his forehead, tinged the same hue as his ivory skin. In his taloned hands, he had a carcass so mangled, you could no longer identify if it was an animal or not. His lips were caked in the same blood that pooled beneath him, as deranged, crimson eyes glossed over with the ecstasy from feasting on his meal.

A scream bubbled in your throat, but you knew better than to announce your presence just like that. This was what you wanted, right? To witness him in his true form? You were the one who asked for this and yet...and _yet_ —

The sound of a twig snapping underneath your sandals echoed in the vicinity like you'd just set off a land mine. You could no longer hear him tearing the flesh from its bones, as Akaashi slowly turned to look at you. 

Those weren't the eyes of the kind-hearted yokai you thought he was.

They were the eyes of a killer.

Someone was screaming as you bolted out of the clearing and back into the cemetery. They were still screaming when you nearly tripped on your own feet as you ran down the hill. 

You'd only realized it was you when you barged into the shrine's foyer just after your grandmother finished the dance, weeping inconsolably in her arms for reasons that you would continue to refuse to let them know of in the days to come.


	6. Interlude

The first thing that registered in your mind when you opened your eyes was that you were dreaming.

You were back in the cemetery uphill, wearing your mother's same, old cherry blossom kimono. When you tried glancing at the view of the city that you usually saw this high up, darkness that stretched on for miles greeted your vision instead. It was like the cemetery was the only place that existed in your dreamscape. 

Instinctively, your eyes flickered to the vague direction where you remembered your parents' graves have been marked. But instead of seeing the worn tombstones you've regularly been visiting, you saw Akaashi's familiar, demonic form in its place. Suddenly, you weren't in the cemetery anymore, but in the forbidden forest where you first found him. 

Dead trees loomed over the two of you much more menacing than they had been alive. Instead of the blood you've witnessed firsthand, the wilted leaves pooled around the clearing. Despite the significant changes in the scenery, it was like the scene replayed the same way. When Akaashi turned around to affix you with his chilling, ruby-eyed stare, he still seemed to be feasting on something in his hands. 

But this time it wasn't an unidentifiable carcass.

It was a very human-looking forearm, lopped off at the elbow. Your heart surged in your chest, and you could feel your blood running cold beneath your skin when you caught sight of the familiar bell charm that enclosed the slack wrist. You were too petrified to take a look at the sleeve of your kimono, but at the corner of your eye, you could see the crimson fabric becoming dyed into a darker shade from the spot where you feared your arm must have been missing. 

Akaashi darted out his tongue as he licked a single drop of blood that trickled from a cut on your fingers. The bell chimed from the abrupt motion, and the sound rang so loudly in your ears, you winced. 

"Foolish, foolish, little human," Akaashi whispered in your ear, and you barely had time to wonder how he appeared behind you so abruptly. 

Because the moment you opened your mouth, blood spilled from your lips as you felt him plunge a hand through your chest. 

* * *

"Fujimoto-san, what are you doing?!"

"She's been blighted! This is the only way to purge the negative energy that's infested her body!"

A crash. Shuffling footsteps. _Rage_. "You will not exorcise my granddaughter because she is _not_ possessed."

"Amatsuki-sama—"

"Please remove yourself from my home immediately." A pause. A shaky breath. "We'll discuss this come morning." 

You knew better than to announce that you were awake when you regained consciousness. The dream you had just now threw your mind into a haze. But the familiar feeling of lying on a futon with a soft pillow beneath your head, and the warmth of your grandmother's hands as she gently caressed your arm—still, thankfully, attached to the rest of your body—drastically helped in anchoring you back to reality. When you were sure that Fujimoto, who must have been in the same room, has left, you fluttered your eyes open; squinting slightly at the harsh light that razed your vision.

Your grandmother looked more disheveled than you've ever seen her. The lines of worry were etched onto her aged skin, as she stared vacantly at the tatami in contemplation. But when you managed to call out, "oba-san," weakly, her gaze snapped your way in a split second.

"Thank the gods," she whispered, sounding too relieved for comfort as she felt for your temperature. "Your fever still hasn't gone down... (Name), what did you get yourself into?"

"Sorry," you croaked, struggling to pull yourself upright only to be halted by your grandmother. 

"Lie down," she commanded, before standing up to pad over to your dresser. There, she plucked something from one of the drawers before returning to your side, tying your warding charm around your wrist. Wait. When did you take it off?

"You forgot to put this on when you headed out for the festival." The disappointment in her tone was hard to miss, and you could feel yourself shrinking with guilt. "Out of all the times you could have encountered a malignant entity, why did it have to coincide with your forgetfulness?"

You grimaced, examining the charm with curious eyes. "A malignant entity?"

"Are you hiding something from me, child?"

The answer was probably written all over your face because your grandmother all but sighed in the next second, brushing stray hairs out of your face with a tenderness you've gotten so used to receiving over the years. You felt terrible for having to hide Akaashi's identity from her. Even after what you saw, even after what you dreamt of, you couldn't find the courage to be up front about the yokai that's lurking in the shrine's territory. 

You couldn't bring yourself to break Akaashi's trust just like that.

When you refused to speak a word, your grandmother pressed her lips into a thin line, readjusting her position so that she's seated comfortably by your futon. 

"I suppose it's time I told you the truth of how you survived that car crash."

Your ears perked up, and you shot your grandmother a hard stare. Was she talking about what you thought she was...?

She spared a brief glance at the open window, where the full moon was still on display in the vast sky. It must've been well past midnight, and you were taken by surprise by the fact that you weren't out cold for a whole day just like what happened the last time you blacked out. 

"A few years before your mother had you," she began, the stutter in her tone being clue enough of how hard this was to talk about again, "the shrine was infiltrated by a yokai."

_You are a false prophet._

Grimacing, you brought your fingers up to massage your temples a little. Where did _that_ come from? And why did the voice in your head sound so familiar? But before you could even wonder why your brain decided to bring forth a random recollection to the forefront of your mind, your grandmother continued. 

"Yokai attacks weren't very unusual back in the day, when we still didn't have...appropriate protection. But this yokai, in particular, was different." She paused, looking at you for a moment before she shot you an unreadable look. "He claimed that he was the eldest son of Tsukuyomi-sama, and that he's been cursed to wander the land for being half a demon."

"He's spent centuries searching for his mother's sacred ground, and when he finally found it, he begged for us to help him transcend to the heavens so he could speak with the goddess, himself." Something flashed across her eyes for a brief moment—regret, perhaps? "The thing about being the head of Amatsuki Shrine is that you get this...familiarity of sorts. You'll know when a certain creature is even remotely related to the goddess, just by following the feeling in your gut."

"I believed him," your grandmother said. "Despite the way he looked—a grotesque demon that seemed like he was out to desecrate the shrine—I knew it deep in my heart that he was definitely connected to Amatsuki-sama somehow."

 _How dare you claim to be of the lunar goddess' progeny when you look like_ that _!_

The headaches were getting worse now, but your grandmother didn't seem like she was going to be stopping any time soon. 

"But before I could even think about what to do, the monks followed the usual protocol for a breach in the shrine," she spoke with a softer tone now, like she's having a hard time reminiscing. You observed the way she clenched her fists on her lap, lip quivering with an emotion you couldn't identify. "One of them carved the demon's heart out of his chest when they weakened it significantly. We all know that once a yokai loses his heart, he will perish on the spot."

"However, that didn't happen with that one. But instead of lashing out as a final resort to take his heart back, he melted into the shadows and went into hiding. We've yet to see him again, actually." 

Your grandmother then spared you another one of her fleeting glances, like she had the same chaos swirling in her mind as you. "The yokai's heart held power like no other—even the monks could tell at one glance. So, instead of disposing it like we should, I agreed to keep it locked in one of the hidden rooms within the shrine. You wouldn't believe how well its energy alone repelled other yokai and malignant spirits."

"Me and Anri lived in peace thereafter. She graduated, prepared to become the next shrine head, met your father, Kazunari, and had you." This was the first time she's cracked a smile in the midst of her story, but there's something bittersweet behind it. "Oh, what joy you brought in this old shrine. Your mother couldn't even take care of a houseplant when she was little, yet she immediately became a busybody mother the moment you were born. She wouldn't give up on you even if you were a really sickly child...but then—"

"The accident happened."

She took in a sharp breath when you took the words right out of her mouth, and your grandmother hastily wiped off the evidence of her still-festering grief from her eyes. Clearing her throat, she managed a somber smile as she took your hand in hers. 

"It happened on a night of an eclipse; a hit and run that happened right at the main road in front of the shrine. Your father was killed on the spot," she murmured. "...Anri was severely injured, and she would bleed out if we didn't bring her to the hospital. But she insisted that we saved you first."

"Your legs have been crushed in the wreckage, and I couldn't quite get the sound of your wails out of my head for days after that." Your grandmother laughed, pinching your nose affectionately as if she wasn't telling you the tale of your parents' demise. "I thought I would lose all three of you that day...until Fujimoto-san proposed a solution."

You frowned, staring down at your legs. There had been a time in your life when your they were fucked up? You could never even imagine your life without track, much less having to live as a cripple. 

"Yokai have inhuman regenerative capabilities, said Fujimoto-san, and I immediately figured out what he was talking about. He was telling me to transfer the yokai's heart we have in safekeeping into my only granddaughter." 

Wait. _What_?

"It was a practice that the heavens would most definitely frown upon, but I was convinced that Tsukuyomi-sama will forgive this foolish little human for saving the only family she has left," she told you, eyes roving over your pliant form so tenderly, it almost hurt to see her that way. "But it's as if my sins are catching up to me fast, and you have to pay for the grave decision I've made all those years ago."

She reached out for the arm that had your charm tied around it, caressing the bell with lithe fingers. "I made this charm to specifically keep that yokai away from you. I suppose it's worked well for a few years, but I'm not so certain anymore..."

You tried pulling all your focus on what your grandmother was telling you. You really did. But the facts at hand were beginning to add up in a terrifyingly parallel manner as Akaashi's stories.

A human stole his heart. The monks kept a yokai's hidden away in the shrine.

It was breathing life into another human, unknowingly. The heart you had right now was not yours.

It was Akaashi's. 

"Is that why...I never get tired even after track practice? Why I've always had such inhuman stamina?" The way your voice trembled with dread or confusion or resentment—perhaps a mix of all three—rang in your ears like white noise. You raked both your hands through your hair, tugging mindlessly as you fought the urge to scream. Your grandmother scrambled to enclose you in her arms, consoling you as you let choked sobs rip past your throat. You could feel her trembling as she held you close to her chest, but you couldn't reassure her that it was okay, that this will all pass.

Because it wasn't okay, and this will not just pass like any other trivial matter that plagued your fickle, little minds.

There was a yokai's heart beating inside of you. And the same yokai—the one you blindly put your trust in—was going back to get what was truly his.

* * *

Foolish,

foolish,

**l̴̟̙̟̣̟̠̐̈́̒̉̽̌̒͝ͅi̵̭̟̦͎̻̱̇̐ͅț̶̨̧̛͇̝̹̟̽͒̓̂͒̓͊͠ṭ̷̡̨̮͖͚̄̀̈́͌͑̊͆͆͝l̵̡̤̘̣̰͎͚̮̾̀͐̊̈͛̒̽̕ĕ̵̦͚̭̰̟̪̱̋ ̴͎̀͑̈́͑̄ḩ̵̯͔̎̒̆̓̓u̷͈͍͖̯̪̰̗̒̕m̶͉̾ã̶̬͖͌͂͛ṇ̸̨̭͎̼̖̼̟̌̾̐̇̊.**


	7. Eclipse

【 🌑 】

Going on an hour's worth of a jog is a staple for quiet Sunday mornings like these. You stuck by routine religiously, despite that ground-breaking revelation the previous night because...well, you didn't have a reason to remain idle. So what if you're the perpetrator for stealing a yokai's heart? The moment you opened your eyes at the first breath of dawn, you were unknowingly filled with a newfound resolve.

You weren't going down without a fight. 

"Oba-san, I'll head off now!"

Your grandmother was in the middle of her morning prayers, so the lack of a response was understandable. But even when you were already descending the steps from the foyer, you could still feel her gaze following your retreating form. For a moment, you had half the mind to go back and tell her that you were okay. That everything's fine. That you definitely won't let some half-dead creature get the best of you because you didn't have the blood of the Amatsukis running in your veins for nothing.

Each breath came out deep and smooth. After years of running across fields and ovals, it's only normal that you've got your breathing under reins. The temperature wasn't too sweltering for your taste either, and the comfortable feel of the wind breezing past your shoulders only egged you on to pick up the pace. 

Descending the hill in these runs granted you a view of the sun climbing up the sky once you passed the roadside overlooking the city. The waking dawn was slightly obscured by a thicket of trees and overgrown vegetation, but the daylight managed to pierce through the leaves either way—bathing your skin in warmth of the sun. 

The only thought that managed to surface in your mind was, "It would suck if I died and didn't get to see this anymore, huh."

"(Surname)?" 

You stopped in your tracks the moment you spotted a familiar face climbing up the hill. Bokuto, who also seemed to be going on a run from the clothes he's wearing, gaped at you, surprised.

"Bokuto-san?" you breathed, trotting over to the ace. "What are you doing here?" 

He grinned back at you, and it's hard to miss the way the morning light made the gold of his eyes glimmer even brighter. "I was just headed up the shrine to offer some prayers," he said, but his initial cheeriness faltered for a moment—regressing into quaint embarrassment. "And, uh, I kind of wanted to check on you. After what happened last night, and all."

"Oh," was all that you could manage, remembering last minute that you ditched him without any sort of explanation. You coughed out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you averted your gaze. "Ah, yeah. I'm really sorry for just leaving you like that. Did Sumi and Kazuto walk back home with you?"

Bokuto shook his head. "Nah, they were still watching the lunar dance. I had to go home by then, anyway, so it wasn't a big deal."

So he _didn't_ know about your little delirious episode at the shrine. You felt the unease that you didn't know had been crawling beneath your skin dissipate, even a little. The last thing you'd want is to explain something so outlandish to Bokuto, of all people. From his reply, it seemed that Itsumi and Kazuto could have witnessed that, but were thankfully yet to corner you about it.

"Anyways, since you're here, do you want to grab some breakfast downhill?" he offered, a kind smile playing at his lips. 

You thought that, had you spent the previous evening like any normal high school girl dreamed—watching the fireworks side-by-side with the boy she likes—maybe you would have agreed. Maybe, if it was your own heart, and not a yokai's, that was keeping you alive right now, you could have indulged yourself in Bokuto's not-so-subtle advances. But that wasn't the case at all. These were the circumstances you had to live with. 

And you were going to see them through until the end.

"I'm sorry, Bokuto-san," you sighed, training your eyes back on the sunrise. "I'd...rather be alone right now."

Before he could even utter out any response, you were already running into a sprint, taking one of the off-road pathways where he couldn't follow you. Having spent your childhood aimlessly wandering the hill—committing each of the paths that ran like veins across the rich forests around you—you knew perfectly well how to hide in a way where no one could find you. 

Leaves crinkled under the weight of your running shoes as you slowed your strides, eyes fluttering shut as you let the glorious birdsong ring in your ears. But your moment of tranquility was interrupted by the steady beeps coming from your watch. With a sigh, you cast it an uninterested glance, seeing that your first twenty minutes were up and you haven't even burned half your required calories.

You let yourself lean on one of the tall trees in the area, chuckling breathlessly.

"Tonight for sure."

* * *

Undoubtedly, Akaashi had been right when he said the moon shines brightest in the cemetery uphill. 

With each step you took as you ascended your usual path, it was as if Tsukuyomi favored only this patch of land across the country and nowhere else. But even though the moonlight spilled across the hill like it typically did, it was like its residents were in hiding. You didn't hear any small animals scuttling about. The cicadas seemed to have hibernated early for the night. And even your grandmother retired to her bedroom before the clock even struck at 8 P.M.

"Don't go outside," she had warned with a reproachful kind of sternness. "Remember what I told you."

But you wouldn't be able to move forth with your plans if you merely cooped yourself up in your bedroom. So, when you were sure she was already fast asleep, you grabbed one of her old oil lamps from the storage room, lighting the wick with a single match before you began your trek uphill. 

The gate to the cemetery was gaping wide when you reached the summit, and you let out a stuttering breath to somehow ease yourself. The small bottle containing the blessed water from the shrine's well felt heavy in the pocket of your sweats as you darted your gaze around for any sign of him. When you were met with nothing but the whisper of the stale wind, you gazed up at the sky—the moon overhead slowly, slowly being swallowed by the shadow of the sun. 

Your fingers coiled tighter around the lamp, forcing yourself into hyper-awareness. If Akaashi's identity as the lunar goddess' offspring was anything to go by, you were almost too certain that the occurrence of an eclipse will affect him somehow. Whether it will strengthen him or weaken him, you didn't know. But what you did know was that, if you were going to face him, it had to be tonight.

"Your penchant for making questionable decisions was entertaining at first, but this is just suicide, don't you think?"

Then and there, the charm that's kept you safe all these years glowed with its usual, telltale white. You grit your teeth when a whirlwind blew past, and you suddenly felt his hot breath fanning the nape of your neck. 

"Who said I had any plans to die?" you murmured, a challenge underlining your words as you faced him. 

Akaashi looked as infuriatingly normal as ever with his loose shirt, gym shorts, and volleyball shoes. The only thing that gave away his demonic heritage were his ruby red eyes and the sneer that gave you a flash of fanged teeth. 

"The fact that you came to me already seals your fate," he chuckled, animosity oozing from his words. "I am going to _kill_ you."

But even if he could very much put a hand through your chest like he did in your dreams, you had an inkling that Akaashi wouldn't do it. Despite the menacing aura that enveloped him, your instincts were telling you that it was all for show. Was it his heart in your chest whispering all these little clues to you? Was that why, even though you definitely should have alerted the shrine of his presence, you couldn't bring yourself to do so?

"Are you sure about that?" you tested him, meeting his vermillion gaze head-on. "If you really wanted to kill me and take your heart back, wouldn't you have done it already?" 

"Who are you to question a yokai's timing, _human_?" he hissed, eyes shining with an anger you knew was staged. The words were curled around a growl, yet...you felt no fear. Just a wave of calm washing over you like how the moonlight swathed your form in its bright splendor. 

Shucking common sense out of the window, you stepped forward until you were directly in front of the yokai. His mask of hostility faltered for a split second, and that alone confirmed your suspicions. He didn't want to do this. Not at all.

And it's for that reason alone that you gathered the courage to take his still-human hand, placing his palm flat against your chest like an open invitation to murder you. Akaashi's gaze hardened. You could feel him straining against your grip, but you kept his hand in place, even if your charm glowed even harsher with the close contact.

"Can you feel that?" you murmured, casting a sidelong glance at your parents' gravestones just a distance away. "That's the heart that saved me when I was little. The heart that could've saved my mother's life, but instead she chose to give to me. _Your_ heart." The tone of your voice nearly broke with the words, but you steeled yourself. You couldn't afford to lose face—not now. "You can take it back if you really want to. You have all the right to do so...but that's not what you wish, isn't it?"

For a moment, his form flitted between human and yokai, like he was keeping his control from slipping. Akaashi bared his fangs at you with a fearsome snarl, and at the same time, you noticed that the moon overhead had already been enveloped by the sun—painting its surface a bright red, much like the yokai's eyes. 

_**"Do not speak to me as if you know my pain!"**_ he roared in a garbled voice before he lunged at you with breakneck speed, pinning you to the ground before you could even react. 

Pitch black darkness enveloped the cemetery, and the only source of light came from the oil lamp that was haphazardly knocked out of your grasp and the warding charm on your wrist. The fear that you should have felt the moment you practically offered yourself up to him was beginning to catch up. His hands, with talons now protruding from them, wrung around your throat, cutting off circulation with a single squeeze. You desperately gasped for air, blunt fingernails clawing at his hands, but to no avail. 

"I did not kill you on-sight because I was biding my time for when I'm most powerful," Akaashi spat, tightening his grip that you nearly lost your vision for a moment. "But a human like you doesn't need any further explanations. You're nothing but— _argh_!"

In the midst of his little monologue, you managed to fish out the blessed water in your pocket. It was a miracle, really, that you had the foresight not to seal the cap too tightly. The minimal drops that got on his skin sizzled in your ears, and when you felt his grip falter, you kicked him with as much lower leg strength you could muster. 

Akaashi rolled onto the grass, writhing from the pain of having been struck with blessed water. The sight sent an arrow of remorse flying straight through your chest. He could've ripped your— _his_ —heart out when he had the upper hand, but he didn't. 

"Why are you holding back?" you asked, backing away cautiously as you picked up the oil lamp. "You told me the moment you found who it was that had your heart, you would take it back. Were you lying?" 

Asking a yokai if he was lying was a little laughable, really. They were creatures of darkness, so lying was right up their alley. But Akaashi...Akaashi had always been different from the rest.

As you walked closer, you held the lamp in front of you—the bright orange glow of the flame illuminating the sight of Akaashi's bloodstained face. Crimson tears lined his long lashes where they pooled at the edges of his eyes and cascaded down his pale cheeks. The burn marks from the blessed water had already healed, but it seemed that the agony was yet to ease.

"I just want it to end," he croaked, voice sounding all kinds of broken. "I am neither alive nor dead. Without my heart I can never know peace." 

Your gaze softened, heart rippling with pity at the sight of him. "What do you mean?"

Akaashi heaved a long, exhausted breath, hauling himself up to his feet before doing his habit of looking up at the sky—at the _moon_. And for a moment, you liked to think that the expression that shadowed his face was but a glimpse of the age-long suffering you couldn't even begin to comprehend. 

"I was the first of my mother's children," he began, his words coming out much more even than earlier. "Keiji, she called me. The name I was given was meant for a leader that would keep all the children of the moon in check. I was supposed to be up in the heavens, ruling alongside her. But that wasn't what happened at all." 

"The first time I descended onto the Earth, it was to bless the first worshippers of the lunar deities with prosperity. But..." Akaashi faltered for a moment, intently affixing you with his red-eyed gaze. "It was a trick. Their entire offertory was a ploy to get me to reveal myself so they could subject me into their godless experiments."

His tale had you frowning for a moment. You weren't very certain, but it was like you've already heard this before...

"Every thing and every creature should always have a counterpart. That was the philosophy they lived with," the yokai reiterated as he flexed his talons before his eyes. "It was the same for the gods they so-religiously worshipped. In order to maintain the balance in the world—"

"There should be a force that opposed even the gods themselves," you continued for him, lips quivering with horror when you finally realized what was so glaringly familiar about his narrative. "That's...that's from the origin story of the first yokai. He was created by delusional worshippers..." There was a pause in your response, like you couldn't quite form the right words, before you forced yourself to look back at him. 

" _You're_ the first yokai?" 

For the first time in a while, you saw Akaashi's mouth quirk into a tired smile. "I'm glad you're not making me regret sparing you."

You ran a hand through your hair in utter disbelief, your mind spouting out questions you weren't even sure you want to know the answers to. Not only was he Tsukuyomi's eldest son, he was also the first yokai cursed to wander the earth for all eternity. If you cross-referenced your grandmother's story with Akaashi's, it would add up why he would want the shrine's help in reaching out to his mother. 

He just wanted to go back to his home in the skies. 

"My grandmother told me about the yokai who infiltrated the shrine years ago, whose heart they sealed away," you spoke again, half-wondering if you were even in the position to demand even more answers. "Why do you need your heart to ascend to the heavens? It's the crux of those worshippers' utter blasphemy. Surely, you don't—"

"Gods do not have hearts, yes," Akaashi interrupted, pressing his mouth into a thin line. "But the object that keeps my existence anchored to reality is hidden within it—the essence of the moon. When I said I would take back my heart, that was what I meant, and obtaining it does not require me to kill you."

Not even your grandmother's strict lessons covered that little tidbit of information. You found yourself ghosting a hand over your chest, feeling the steady thrum of your pulse beating underneath your fingertips. Akaashi's eyes roved over your much shorter frame, and the relief in his eyes looked much more genuine than the wrath he had bluffed with earlier. 

"This world is cruel, (Name)," he sighed, and you realized that it was the first time he addressed you as such. "I cannot converse with my mother in this form, nor can she personally interfere with the affairs of the earthly realm. If I were to return, it would be of my own effort alone."

"It took me _centuries_ to find her sacred land right here, and just before I could finally go back, my heart, my _essence_ , was taken away—and I was made to suffer once again by the same people who swore to worship us." The somber ring in Akaashi's voice made your heart sink with regret. Regret for ever questioning him. Regret for the shrine's cruel actions against him. 

At the same time, the cemetery was beginning to brighten all around the two of you. Sparing a quick glance at the sky, you saw that the sun's shadow was already receding, letting the moonlight rain down where it shone brightest once more. 

"If you're going to go back," you told him, seizing his hand and, mimicking your previous actions, flattened his palm over your heart, "it's not going to be tonight."

He gave you a tired look, like he couldn't believe you were still being stubborn after everything he's told you. "And why is that?"

You breathed in deep, suddenly made aware of how cold his fingers were and how your charm no longer glowed alarmingly. But you couldn't give them another thought when you stared at Akaashi dead in his now-gunmetal blue eyes. 

"I'm going to prove to you that the world isn't always so cruel," you told him, conviction lacing your tone. "And I'm also going to show you that the life your heart has given me won't ever be put to waste."

Akaashi could only stare at you with his lips slightly parted in muted surprise. "You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"But I will," you insisted. "And you're going to let me do so anyway."

There was another lengthy pause in your conversation when you saw the desolation on his face morph into something lighter, more at ease. For a fleeting moment, you thought that he looked more human in those few moments than he had in the entire time he pretended to be so. 

"Perhaps, I _do_ have a weak spot for someone as persistent as you," he relented, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation. "But I have only one request before you go through with this madness of yours."

You cocked your head to the side as he withdrew his hand from your grasp. "What is it?"

Akaashi pulled his lips into a lopsided smile, his cold, porcelain fingers reaching up to tuck a loose tuft of hair behind your ear. 

"Don't make me lose faith in the human race a third time, (Name)." 


	8. Waning Gibbous

【 🌖 】

"What are you doing, child?"

Your ears perked up at the sound of your grandmother's voice calling out from the entryway to the kitchen, sparing her a toothy grin. "Good morning, oba-san. You have any requests for breakfast?"

She stared at you pensively, as if not quite believing her eyes as you stood before the stove, a golden omelette sizzling on the pan with an aromatic flourish. Well, you _did_ make use of a few spices to encourage more flavor. Hmm, will he think it's too much? He didn't seem like the type to particularly mind—

"There's still some leftover miso and karaage in the fridge. I'll have that instead," she decided, toeing the short distance to the refrigerator as she glanced at your work over your shoulder. "It has been a while since you've prepared a bento. Did Itsumi miss your cooking?" 

"Ah," you began, heat flushing your face as you trapped your foot in between the opening just before your grandmother could close the fridge. "No. It's for someone else."

Her lips twitched into a knowing smile while you retrieved a few hotdogs from the freezer. "Is it a boy?"

The suggestiveness in her tone does nothing to ease the redness that coated your face, and you have to avert your eyes just to quell the embarrassment blooming in your chest like sakura leaves in the spring. But...so what if it was a boy? It was only Akaashi, the true owner of the heart that's beating inside your chest. Frankly, making a bento was hardly a fair exchange for him letting you live so normally like this for so long...

As your grandmother heated up her leftovers, you quietly sliced the hotdogs so that they could somewhat resemble an octopus—just like the most generic bento any high school girl could think of giving to their crushes. Wait, no. You didn't have a _crush_ on Akaashi. Yeah, it was the sense of indebtedness that's driving you to make sure the omelette is extra fluffy, the rice soft and sticky, and—oh, he could use some fried fish, too. You _did_ spot a bag of mackerel in the freezer when you checked earlier. Hmm, did you have enough time to make some onigiri? 

So engrossed in your own handiwork, you were completely oblivious with the way your grandmother watched you from the corner of her eye. You took the truth surprisingly well after that fateful evening after the lunar festival. She'd initially assumed your well-being would only go further downhill once the eclipse had passed, but the unusually chirpy mood you were in gave her quite the surprise. 

"Oba-san, do we still have soy sauce?" you wondered aloud as you inspected the cupboards with a pout. 

"Second cabinet to the left, child." The elder pulled her lips into a warm grin, wondering why she was ever worried about someone as independent as her granddaughter in the first place. 

* * *

Akaashi's mouth hung slightly agape as navy blue eyes traced every refined detail on the bento on his lap. You grinned cheekily as you occupied the spot next to him on the rooftop. While you could have just invited him over to your usual lunch table, it felt...inappropriate to let others see the food you'd made for him specifically. 

"This is looks even better than my human mother's bento," he breathed, snapping the chopsticks you've brought in two as he poked each side dish with careful curiosity. 

"Calling her your human mother is weird," you pointed out, munching on one of the onigiris you managed to put together without running late. "I can't vouch for the taste though. A mother's cooking is in an entirely different realm, and I am yet to achieve it."

"That so?" he humored you, lips spreading into a sly smile. 

He tore off a piece of omelette with the chopsticks, stuffing it into his mouth without much preamble. At first, his face harbored no evident reaction you could draw conclusions from but when he began scarfing down some rice and taking a bite from the fried fish, you felt a swell of childlike pride pulsating in your chest. However, as Akaashi continued to slurp and eat like he hasn't had a decent meal for days, the sight triggered a memory in the back of your head without meaning to. 

"Akaashi," you began, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Remember the night of the full moon? You asked me to go if I wanted to see your true form, and I did, but..."

Unwittingly, your words snapped him out of his momentary feeding frenzy as he brandished you with a look akin to that of a kicked puppy. A shadow of guilt hovered over his beautiful face and for a moment, you'd wanted nothing more than to sputter out that it's alright and that you _definitely_ weren't scared out of your wits when you saw him feasting on an animal carcass.

The setter heaved a long sigh, setting down the bento on the ground along with the chopsticks. He spared a thousand-yard gaze at the view of the schoolyard below, and the manner in which his face was angled with enabled you to spot the single speck of rice sticking to the corner of his mouth. Out of habit than anything else, you leaned closer to swipe your thumb across his face so you could flick off the single grain. At the same time, Akaashi turned his head back to say something, but was ultimately silenced by the close proximity. 

You had no idea whose breath it was that hitches, but the strange intimacy that permeated the air was too stifling to ignore.

"You have a little...something right there," you murmured, fingers gently removing the stupid little grain. For an insignificant moment, your skin brushed against the curve of his lips by accident—causing you spring away immediately as you spouted off with rushed apologies. Your face burned with the heat of sheer embarrassment while Akaashi let out a soft chuckle. 

"Well," he began, straightening out his long legs as he stared up at the glaring sun, "for starters, I was turned into a yokai on a night of the full moon."

The next moment, you forced yourself into regaining your composure. Akaashi was kind enough not to ridicule your little scene earlier, so the least you could do is to listen to what he had to say. 

"Think of it as something similar to a lycanthropy curse. I lose control over the demonic entity I've kept under reins for so long every time there's a full moon." There was a somber ring in his tone that was fairly difficult to overlook, and you found your grin from earlier regressing into a tight-lipped frown. "As the legends say, yokai devour humans primarily, but I've always been adamant with satiating my hunger through those means; having fed on animals all this time instead. But during those nights, it's much more difficult to ignore the beast's desires."

Akaashi then reached out to grab ahold of your wrist—the one that held the warding bracelet—and before you could even ask him what he was doing, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss on top of the bell-shaped charm. 

If you were embarrassed a while ago, Akaashi might as well had dug your grave and pushed you into a pit of humiliation altogether. But you couldn't quite permit yourself to lose face once more—not when he's nuzzling your forearm like an animal that's begging for his mate's forgiveness. The unruly tresses of his ebony hair brushed across your skin, and you had to fight the urge to card your fingers through the tufts. 

His eyes were closed the whole time, but when he'd fluttered them open once again, he gazed at you with such doting that, for a fleeting moment, you thought Akaashi knew what love even was.

"I purposely lured you to the cemetery that night so I could devour you," he confessed. "I-I hadn't been thinking clearly. My sense of reason was warped and... I _know_ that no amount of explaining can justify what I did but—"

"Akaashi," you chuckled. Despite him outright admitting to attempted murder, you felt no resentment at all. Just a sense of responsibility that told you to understand him in ways any other person could never even begin to do so.

Wordlessly, you pulled him close to your chest, making him go rigid in your grasp. You didn't know what specifically spurred you on with your actions, but... Akaashi felt strangely snug in the curve of your arms. You thought that embracing him wasn't just a show of affection. Hell, you've never been proficient in communicating your feelings with others, but with Akaashi—with Tsukuyomi's son, _Keiji_ —all it took was the thrum of your heartbeat; constant, steady, and unwavering as you conveyed a message that was better felt than heard.

_I trust you. Completely. Unconditionally. Without a shred of doubt._

When he buried his fingers into your tangled hair, you let yourself melt into his cold, cold arms. The fact that he wasn't human was so strikingly obvious when you held him like this. But the chill wasn't menacing. If anything, it was as if he was inviting you to spread your warmth in every part, every crevice of his artificial body. 

"The food you made's getting cold," he mouthed the words against the crown of your head with a soft laugh. "I'd rather not let your hard work go to waste."

As you (hesitantly) peeled yourself away from his embrace, you felt the buzz of vertigo ringing in your ears. That was only one measly little hug, but...you've never felt more refreshed in your whole life.

"Alright, alright," you relented, letting yourself lean against his slender frame as the two of you spent the rest of your lunch break undisturbed in Fukurodani's rooftop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *adjusts the chapter count AGAIN* you all didnt see A THING


	9. Final Quarter

【 🌗 】

"Akaashi, over here!"

You saw the way the setter's head immediately whipped in your direction, blue eyes lighting up with recognition as he jogged to where you were standing in wait. There weren't as many people crowding the train station like usual in the middle of the week, but today was a different case.

"Are you really sure about this?" he asked, staring at the brochure you'd given him yesterday. "I've seen everything this world has to offer. I don't think a trip to around the city would give any new sights for me to see."

"Such pessimism so early in the morning," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You then tugged on his wrist to drag him over to the ticketing machines. "Oba-san told me that visiting the same place with different people incurs all sorts of feelings. So, who's to say I can't overwrite your bad experiences with new ones?"

The setter stared at you pointedly. "...Bad experiences? You humans really are strange. To think that you're so convinced you could just erase a thousand years of suffering in a day." 

"Shut up," you told him as you busied yourself with the machine. "It's the first holiday we've had from school in a while, and I'm simply using it to my advantage!"

Once you'd retrieved two tickets for your first stop in Ueno Station, you gestured for Akaashi to follow suit. For a few moments, he merely stood his ground, staring at you with a nonchalant yet observant gaze. His mouth was quirked upward in a somewhat sly smile.

You tipped your head to the side, calling out his name in confusion before he seemingly snapped out of his trance. The yokai sighed after a hurried apology, jamming his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he let you lead the way without much complaint. You had half the mind to ask why he spaced out all of a sudden, but you had a long day ahead, after all.

* * *

"Oh, that man tried to behead me once."

You shushed the yokai's voice when a couple of other tourists shot wary glances your way. "Akaashi, don't say stuff like that out loud! Who are you, Bokuto-san?"

With how long he'd been alive, you thought that it would be a good idea to drop by the National Museum right next to Ueno Park. While you didn't really know how immortals like Akaashi would react to seeing centuries of history being put up on display, you hadn't really expected for him to be so...casual about it. 

"But it's true, though," he sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "He was famous for breeding cattle in the Sengoku era, and you know animals are my main source of nutrition. I simply thought he wouldn't notice if one of his cows went missing."

"...And he did?"

Akaashi breathed out an airy laugh as he trained his eyes on the life-sized replica of the so-called cattle breeder. "I never thought such a mild looking person could wield a sword with that much animosity until that day. His bloodlust rivalled that of Nobunaga's, even."

You whipped your head back at him with a gasp. "You've met Oda Nobunaga?" 

A flash of offense hovered over his navy blue eyes. "I don't get why you people of the modern age are so fixated with that freeloader. You have the privilege to be spared by the first yokai ever created, you know?" 

"I don't really think that's a privilege, Akaashi," you replied drily, glancing around at the rest of the Sengoku section. 

There was an abundance of katanas and other weapons of war hung on the walls—each having been preserved in pristine condition despite the time that had already passed. Some of the warlords' bloodstained haoris and hakamas were also being kept in glass cases, where visitors may admire the intricate patterns weaved into the fabric. Faded ukiyo-e paintings were also framed up on the other end of the hall, depicting picturesque images of life as it had been in the Sengoku period.

All the remnants of an era long gone were all around you, proving that though time continued flowing ceaselessly, tirelessly, some things would always be remembered. But when you glanced at the seemingly normal boy right next to you, eyes staring deep into nothingness, you couldn't help but think that there were also objects and people that end up forgotten in the past, too. 

"I'll remember you, you know. When you have to go."

The consciousness in Akaashi's eyes returned in a split second, furrowing his brows when he turned to you. "That's a little out of the blue, (Name). What brought it up?"

You found yourself smiling up at him slightly, a wealth of ease filling every niche in your body just by being next to him. Your eyes drifted down to the charm on your wrist, where it hung inconspicuously from the band. For the past few days you've spent hanging around the yokai, not once did your charm light up with its telltale, protective glow—even during the time he let you poke his fangs in yokai form the other day. From your limited knowledge with charms and warding spells, you knew, at least, that personalized ones like yours only react to entities that the user perceived as a threat to their life.

But Akaashi was far, far from that. 

"No reason," you told him dismissively, one hand encircling his wrist as you pulled him over to the next wing. "Come on. I'm in the mood to see some Taisho Roman fashion!"

* * *

Your next stop was at a cultural center in the middle of Asakusa. 

"If you told me this was just going to be an educational field trip, we could have just watched a couple documentaries," Akaashi grumbled as the two of you stepped inside the air-conditioned complex. 

It was but a wide space with booths and kiosks lined in neat intervals—offering a wide array of lessons from sword fighting to hand-weaving, and merchandise from several time periods. People came and went with satisfied smiles, and the sight filled you with a familiar wave of nostalgia.

You tutted at him. "Nope. There's nothing better than getting to experience things firsthand. My grandmother used to bring me here a lot as a kid, so... Oh, hey! There's an origami-folding lesson over there."

"Oi—" Before Akaashi could even voice out another complaint, you already led him to where a group of children no older than twelve years old were watching an elderly woman fold a sheet of kami paper into intricate shapes. Your eyes lit up with recognition, and you spoke her name before you could even think.

"Kanae-san!" you chirped giddily as you jogged over to her table. "It's been a while!"

Kanae looked up from her handiwork, eyes squinting behind the glint of old-fashioned glasses before her lips stretched into a kind smile. "Ah, if it isn't Amatsuki-sama's granddaughter. What brings you here? I haven't seen you around the cultural center since you were in elementary school."

"I'm showing my friend over there around Tokyo," you explained, jamming a thumb back at Akaashi, who's just catching up. "He's...going away soon. So, I'm making sure he'll remember this place with striking clarity!"

The elderly woman glanced behind you, eyeing Akaashi with the careful curiosity, but for a split second, you could have sworn you saw her expression turn grim. Before you could assess it further, however, she was back to smiling sweetly once Akaashi was finally by the table as well.

"You're (Name)-chan's friend, no?" she asked him, and Akaashi nodded respectfully. "I see, I see. Fufu, when she was little, she would always flub the origami figures because she would get too excited and fold in all the wrong places, didn't you?" 

"K-Kanae-san," you stammered, feeling a blush coating your cheeks. "You didn't have to tell him that! I mean, I'm better at doing it now, okay?" 

Akaashi glanced at you, unconvinced. "I won't believe you until you show me."

"Eh?! Akaashi, not you, too..."

"Kanae-obasan," called out a girl with pigtails sitting on one of the low tables, raising one hand with an unfinished origami flower. "What's next after this?" 

Kanae then gestured for you and Akaashi to take a seat with the children. "You two are holding up my lesson here. Young man, if you want to witness (Name)-chan flubbing, then put your back into it."

"Yes, ma'am."

Not even having it in you to seethe in front of twelve year-olds, you took off your shoes before settling yourself on the carpeted floor with Akaashi—glaring at the yokai as he took out a few sheets of kami paper from the pile on the table. He handed one to you with a face as smooth as butter, making you wonder when he started becoming so irritating. 

"Okay, children, for the sake of our newcomers, let's start from the top," Kanae announced from the front, holding a single sheet in front of her. "First is..."

Even after years of being dormant with the art of origami folding, each fold and movement your fingers made felt as if your muscle memory was holding the reins. Make a crease in the middle. Fold the flaps neatly into a triangle. Unfurl. Fold to make an overlapping square. Fold it in the middle again. Unfold one flap before folding up the other—

"Quit staring at me," you mumbled, feeling Akaashi's solemn gaze trained on your hands. "I'll seriously mess it up if you're watching me so intently."

From the corner of your eye, you could see Akaashi flashing you a toothy grin. "You remind me of this old woman I'd met in the Meiji era. She was just as absorbed with origami as you are right now."

"Eh? Do I seem old and wrinkly to you?" 

He chuckled softly before proceeding to fold his own paper. "Mind you, she was one of the highest paid courtesans in Yoshiwara in her day. Not that I'd availed of her services, but like all courtesans, she longed for freedom. That longing prompted her to think all sorts of outlandish ideas." There was a pause in his words, and you noticed that he was making something entirely different from a flower. "She was the one behind the saying, _if you fold a thousand paper cranes, the gods will grant you a wish_." 

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, Kanae's voice becoming nothing more than white noise in the back of your mind. You'd heard of that saying, of course. But you've never really tried folding paper cranes. They were too difficult for your elementary school self. But watching Akaashi make one with practiced ease right before your eyes robbed you of any of your previous hostilities for him. 

"If you do manage to fold a thousand cranes, what would you wish for?" he mumbled, placing the perfectly folded crane on the wooden surface. 

It was a strange question, you thought. Why would a yokai—no, a _god_ —ask what a mere human's wishes were?

Akaashi was too occupied with marvelling at his own work to notice the way your face scrunched up with concentration. What _would_ you wish for? In terms of physique, the demon's heart practically had all your physical afflictions covered. You did pretty well at school, and your track career. You were content with your home and the quiet life you lived in the shrine. Honestly, you couldn't think of anything material either, since your grandmother had taught you that wishing for something was selfish and preposterous. That the gods will hand you what was necessary in due time. 

But right now, right when you were gazing at a boy who knew you better than anyone else, you thought, _I can afford to be a_ little _selfish, right, oba-san?_

"I'll wish for more time with you," you spoke quietly, placing your origami flower right next to his crane. But when you realize what nuances your words could have, you followed it up with, "I-I mean, it's not everyday you get to meet the owner of the heart inside your chest without getting killed, now is it?" 

He heaved a long breath, letting slip another quiet laugh. "You always speak as if my original plan was to dispose of you, even though it's not."

"You literally said you lured me to my death on the night of the full moon!" you whispered harshly, smacking his shoulder. 

"I _told_ you it was a compulsion that's hard to resist," he groaned. "You're still alive now, aren't you?"

"Quiet! I don't want to hear your baseless explanations, yokai-san!"

"Human-san, you're being obtuse. I am one of the...friendlier demons."

"You just made it sound worse!" 

When the session came to an end, you and Akaashi stuffed your bags with several origami figures—some of which didn't even resemble anything other than strange geometric figures. The kids were picked up by their parents one-by-one, and you and your companion went up to Kanae to bid your farewells.

"It's nice seeing you again, Kanae-san," you tell her, bowing. "I'll try to come by more often. I promise!"

Kanae smiled, tidying up the finished origami figures in a single cardboard box. "Hush, child. You're off to college this spring, aren't you? You're better off focusing than visiting this old cultural center, of all things. Ah, and you, young man. I hope wherever you're going, you won't forget how to fold kami paper into figurines."

"I'll surely remember all that you taught us, Kanae-san," Akaashi replied, smiling at the elderly woman.

"Run along now, you two," she said, carrying the box with both her hands. "If you're going sightseeing around the city like (Name) mentioned, then you better not burn any more daylight."

"Oh, shoot," you gasped once you glanced at your wristwatch. "Yeah. Our train leaves in about ten minutes, and the next one won't arrive in thirty." Seizing Akaashi's wrist for the nth time today, you greeted Kanae with another bow. "We'll be going now, Kanae-san. Thank you for your time!"

As the two teenagers bolted out of the cultural center, Kanae sighed wistfully, placing the box on top of her worktable for a moment. She then fumbled around the bag she placed on the vacant seat next to hers, trying to find the old cellphone her grandson had given her. With a satisfied smile, she made a call to one of her closest acquaintances. 

"Hello, Amatsuki-sama?" she spoke, the grin on her face receding into a tight-lipped frown. "Are you aware that (Name)-chan is spending time with a demon?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNN drama~


	10. Waning Crescent

【 🌘 】

"Hey, cap!"

Looking up from your phone, you spotted Kazuto jogging from the oval and onto the designated space for Fukurodani's track team. He had two bottles of Pocari in hand, giving you the other one gingerly. Thanking your junior, you uncapped the drink before letting the cool liquid gush down your throat as he settled himself beside you on the grass.

"You okay?" he wondered, watching you from his peripheral as he halved the contents of his bottle. 

You stared at him pensively as you set down your Pocari beside you before shifting your gaze back on your phone screen. Zero new messages, as it had been in the past fifteen minutes you've been sitting here. The track meet doesn't start for an hour more, so you thought you could sit back while the rest of your teammates did their stretches in the open field. 

"Did Sumi send you?" you chuckled, locking your phone as you tossed it into your gym bag.

"Furukawa-senpai has an awfully good Captain-is-upset-about-something sense."

Blinking at him in nonplus, you breathed out another airy laugh. "Well, she isn't wrong. I have a little...something on my mind."

Kazuto raised his eyebrows with a dubious glint in his eyes, but thankfully decided not to press the issue. If it had been Itsumi, she would have pestered you until you spilled what the matter was, and you weren't really in the mood to do some explaining. You and Kazuto sat in comfortable silence as the rest of the athletes from other participating schools did their own pre-competition warm ups. Strange enough, in the past two years you've participated in countless track meets, you'd always been fired up right before the first event. Now, though, the exhilaration was glaringly absent—on your last year before retirement, of all times.

"Coach said that there'll be a group huddle in fifteen," Kazuto informed you as he stood up, stretching out his limbs. "You better catch up, cap!"

As Kazuto ran back to where the rest of your Fukurodani teammates did the last few exercises in your usual routine, you couldn't help but gaze fondly at the black, white and gold uniforms you all wore with pride. You've been running with these people since your first year, and you'd never trade them for anything. Yet you still felt...sullen, despite their reassuring presence. 

Perhaps it had something to do with the absence of a certain yokai that promised he'd be here.

* * *

"There you are."

Akaashi glanced back at you from where he sat on the concrete stairs by the riverbank. You beamed as you settled yourself beside him, handing the yokai the takoyaki you'd gotten for the both of you. He murmured a quiet thanks before training his eyes back on the evening scenery before you. The rainbow bridge shone with dazzling brightness, bouncing off in colorful ripples on the river below it. You took the first bite of your takoyaki, relishing the savory flavor on your tongue before noticing the way the light caressed Akaashi's face with interchanging hues. Red then blue then yellow, but by the time the bridge lit up with green, he'd already noticed the way you were looking at him.

"I stand corrected," he said, lips stretched into a thin smile. "There _are_ a lot of things I've never seen before."

You let out a triumphant simper as you munched on another ball of takoyaki. "See. Even the first yokai in existence adheres to the world's splendor!"

"Not the world. Just Tokyo."

"Even the first yokai in existence adheres to Tokyo's splendor!"

He glanced at you in a way that you could tell he was holding back his laughter, but Akaashi ultimately ended up unsuccessful in keeping up appearances. The yokai snorted, lips quivering in a desperate attempt not to lose face—something you never would have imagined Fukurodani's stoic setter doing. 

But he wasn't just that person to you anymore. He was Keiji, the eldest son of Tsukuyomi the moon goddess, herself—the first yokai, the owner of your heart.

"I take it that you had fun?" you asked, shattering the tranquility as you twirled the bare takoyaki stick between your fingers.

"Bokuto-san uses that word a lot," he told you. "I was too serious at times, he said. I needed to learn how to have fun every now and again." Akaashi propped his chin on the ridge between his pulled up knees, training those beautiful navy blue eyes on your form. "I've now only begun to understand what he meant."

You breathed out a soft laugh, unable to suppress the way your heart fluttered with his words. "I didn't think you'd react that way in the aquarium though."

Akaashi shifted in his seat, sparing you an incredulous look. "It's unheard of! Fish being held captive in bodies of water kept in glass cases _that_ big? That one hall we walked into seemed like we were underneath the seafloor itself!" 

"See! That's what I was talking about! You're a total aquarium fanatic!" 

"I am unaccountable for the things you subject me to experience, (Name)." He shrugged, finishing the rest of his takoyaki in one fell swoop. His cheeks were bunched up like a chipmunk's and you had to stifle your giggles, causing him to look back at you with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, and the way you ordered so much soba for lunch?" you snickered, hiding your mouth behind your hand. "I thought we were going to get kicked out of the shop."

"This vessel may be slender, but a yokai's appetite is hard to sate," he reasoned, but you didn't miss the way his mouth formed a little pout.

Silence settled between the two of you as Akaashi quietly chewed his takoyaki. The chatter of the passers-by that strolled by stalls lining the riverbank blended with the sound of the water flowing calmly below the hill in your ears, instilling you with a kind of peace that was rare to find in the uproar of an evening in Tokyo. You wished you could pretend for a little longer—that the two of you weren't tied together by such a strange thread of destiny.

You wished that you could be two, normal teenagers hanging by the riverside, staying out for longer than you should as the two of you watched the rainbow bridge from a distance.

At that moment, the desire to spend as much time as you could with him burned even stronger. No one had coaxed the laughter out of your chest so easily as Akaashi so-effortlessly did every single time. No one made you as comfortable in your own skin as the yokai right in front of you. So, before you could even think it through, you asked—

"Are you free this Saturday?" Your voice shrank considerably, a bit fearful that he'll turn you down. "We have a track meet at the Athletics Park in Mikuni. It'd be nice if you went."

Akaashi contemplated for a moment before giving you his answer. "Hm, I have tendered my resignation to the volleyball team, so I have quite a lot of free time."

"You _what_?" Your jaw dropped as you stared at him, hard. "Why did you do that?"

"I'm leaving soon, if you're forgetting. Bokuto-san was very against it, but I managed to convince him one way or another," he chuckled, patting your head like you were an underclassman that's pestering him. Well, age-wise, he was a good thousand years older, but—!

"I'll go," Akaashi responded, that hand of his migrating to the side of your face where he cupped your cheek in his cold, cold palm. Your skin prickled at the icy caress, yet a flush of heat still crept up your neck, regardless. 

Since... Since when had you been you so flustered around him?

Clearing your throat, you peeled yourself away from his touch. "Y-You promise?" 

He pulled his lips into a wide grin and, just in time, the rainbow bridge lit up with a mesmerizing ivory light, shining behind Akaashi in a way that almost made your heart leap into the roof of your throat. He looked—he looked so _pretty_ when he smiled. 

With a fond gleam in his eyes, he whispered, "I promise."

* * *

"You did it again, you legend!" 

Nearly choking on the tea you were drinking when Itsumi patted your back harshly, you glared at her from your seat. "What did I do this time?"

"What did you—" she interrupted herself, appalled, before slugging an arm around your shoulders. "Why, you set the best record for the 400-meter sprint yet again, of course!" 

Kazuto nodded in agreement from where he sat across you on your shared table. "Cap, don't act like you don't do it every single year."

"Right? I thought you were pretty out of it today, yet here you are, catching every relevant scout's attention without breaking a sweat!" Itsumi praised through a bout of crocodile tears. "Don't forget me when you're chosen for the Olympics, 'kay?"

After the track meet and once you'd shaken off the reporters that have been hounding you once the awards ceremony came to an end, your best friend opted to snag both you and Kazuto away for a celebratory yakiniku. Though it was completely against your will, since the sun was already setting and you'd wanted nothing more than to sleep the day away, you humored her request, regardless. With your next track meet not being scheduled until the spring, this was your last victory for the year. 

But even as Itsumi and Kazuto began occupying themselves in idle conversation as they grilled the beef strips in front of you, you still couldn't quell the disappointment that sitting on your shoulders like dead weight.

Not a single call, nor a text was sent your way in the entirety of the day and you'd be lying if you said you weren't bothered. Just before you and Akaashi had parted ways in the train station that night, you'd remembered to exchange phone numbers with him so you could text the details. But he'd never responded to any of the messages you've sent up until now. 

It didn't help that he was a scarce presence around Fukurodani, too. Now that he'd quit the volleyball team, you no longer saw him hanging around Bokuto as often—crossing out the option of questioning the volleyball captain of his whereabouts. You'd considered asking Kazuto about him, too, given that they were in the same class. But you just knew it would be a pain to explain why you were even curious about the former setter. 

You never knew that his absence could affect you _this_ much, and for a fleeting moment, you feared that he might have already left for heaven without letting you know. But before that train of thought could progress even further, you reminded yourself that he needed the essence in your heart to do that. 

He hadn't left you—not yet. 

Despite your urgency to just waste away with these feelings of disappointment lodged in your heart, however, you remained in the yakiniku shop until both Itsumi and Kazuto decided to call it quits. As the three of you exited the building, your two friends complaining about how much they ate, you checked your phone again in hopes of _finally_ hearing from him. But you didn't even know why you expected to see anything other than _no new notifications_ hovering on your screen. 

"See you guys," you imparted with a single wave when you'd reached the stairway to the shrine. "Great work today."

Neither Itsumi nor Kazuto responded to your farewell, prompting you to look back at them with raised eyebrows. From the foot of the steps, they were gazing up at you with pronounced concern lining their gazes, and you had to bite down the swell of guilt that surged in your chest at the sight.

"(Name), you know we're here to listen if you have any problems, right?" Itsumi said, voice uncharacteristically tender. 

Kazuto hummed beside her. "Cap, you don't have to shoulder everything on your own. You've got the team supporting you from the sidelines, you know."

 _But this isn't something people like you could understand_ , you wanted to say, but decided not to. Instead, you forced out a convincing smile, nodding gingerly at their effort. "Yeah. I'll keep that in mind." 

* * *

"I'm home," you called out, kicking off your running shoes by the door.

You'd informed your grandmother through a phone call that you wouldn't be eating dinner at home because of that impromptu celebration, but seeing the lights in the kitchen turned off mystified you. Frowning, you sauntered further into your house, glancing around all the rooms for your grandmother, who was nowhere to be found. 

_Huh. She must be at the shrine._

Sloughing off your gym bag by the table, you pocketed your phone and house keys in your track jacket with a sigh.

The trip up the hill was one you were all-too familiar with. You knew where to rest your feet on the stone steps even in the scarce light. Overhead, the moon was obscured by thick clouds, and the humidity that crackled in the wind held a promise of rain. As you ascended the hill, however, an ominous feeling spread in your gut like corrosive acid. Something...wasn't right. 

When you reached the top of the steps, you saw that the lanterns have been lit, despite the shrine being closed for the night. Visiting hours have long ended, and there weren't any festivities taking place. Why was—

Your heart stopped as you laid your eyes on the foyer, where all of the monks flanked the sides in a straight line—in their hands, warding staffs you'd only heard of but never actually seen. Each monk uttered an incantation of sorts with a practiced unison, raising their free hand in the air as if to bless someone. But they were not blessing the boy writhing in agony in the middle of the courtyard, his form flitting between yokai and human as he filled the air with his hoarse screams. 

They were _cursing_ him. 

"It's about time you graced us with your presence, traitor."

With your entire body shaking from fear, rage, _both_ , you brandished Fujimoto with a resentful glare, a snarl curled in your words when you told him—

"Let him go." Your nails were digging painfully into your palms before you strode closer to him. " _Let Keiji go_!"

Before you could even touch the monk, your arms were seized by two others whose names you weren't familiar with. Their faces were as blank as their master's, and you ground your teeth as you strained against their grip. But their strength was superior, for reasons unknown to you. How could a bunch of monks be _this_ strong—

"(Name)."

That voice... You whipped your head to the side, where your grandmother emerged from the shrine wearing her usual shrine maiden attire. A grim look hovered on her aged face, and she didn't order the monks to let you go.

"O-Oba-san!" you pleaded, still struggling against their hold. "Please... They're hurting him! They're hurting _Tsukuyomi-sama's son_ —"

"Silence, child," she spoke sharply, disappointment flashing in her eyes, too apparent for you to bear. "To think you would desecrate the Amatsuki Shrine by... _canoodling_ with a demon. I expected more from you, (Name)."

Nearly choking on your own words, you shook your head, feeling tears catching in the corners of your eyes. "H-He's not what you think he is! You're the one who told me that, too, didn't you? _Please_ , listen to me—"

"The words of a traitor hardly amount to anything, Amatsuki-sama," Fujimoto interrupted, shaking his head. "If you wish to banish it, we best do it now while it's severely incapacitated."

He turned his attention towards you momentarily, smiling with false intentions as he gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at his eyes. 

"Thank you for leading the First back to me," he whispered in your ear, sending repulsing shivers across your skin. "I must clean up after my ancestors' mistakes, you see."

How...How did _he_ know Akaashi was the first? 

A scream tore itself from your lungs, as both that blasted Fujimoto and your grandmother left you to the mercy of your captors, striding off to the center of the courtyard where you could clearly see the consciousness fading from his eyes. A trail of blood dribbled from his mouth and his body convulsed every time the monks evoked a particularly strong word in their incantation. 

_Don't make me lose faith in the human race a third time, (Name)._

"Brothers of mine, today is the day we dispose of the very same demon that desecrated Tsukuyomi-sama's sacred land more than twenty years ago!" Fujimoto's voice rang in your ears, each word stinking of deceit as a triumphant smirk stretched across his face.

"It is time to banish it to the Netherrealms, as all embodiments of evil should be." 


	11. Dark Moon

【 🌑 】

”You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Akaashi's voice came out as nothing more than a desperate croak as he struggled against the chants of the monks. One of his eyes was the same, dark blue he'd disguise himself with on a normal day, and the other, a deep ruby red. Despite how battered he seemed, he managed to brace his palms on the ground, forcing his head not to loll as he stared hard at Fujimoto. 

Your blood was still roaring in your ears, but seeing Akaashi move, much more _talk_ made a wave of utter relief wash over you. But your problems didn't end here. The monks were still at it with the binding spell, rendering Akaashi's already limited powers useless. He grit his teeth as he kept himself from being forced back onto the concrete, and the effort alone was already making his red eye leak familiar, blood red tears. 

"Don't speak to me as if you know me, demon," Fujimoto spat, his face contorting with disgust. "Amatsuki-sama, we must make haste."

No. They can't do that. They _can't_! You darted your eyes around, praying for someone, _anyone_ to come and help. All around you were shrine monks dead-set with banishing Akaashi to a place he didn't even belong to. But despite how bleak things seemed for him, there was _one_ person that you know you still had a chance at winning over. 

"Oba-san!" you shrieked, loud enough to startle some of the monks out of their concentration. The ones who were restraining you told you to be silent as if they could force you to bend to their will. You thrashed violently against their grip, feeling your arms bruise at the strain. But no matter how big of a commotion you caused, your grandmother didn't even bother looking your way. The knowledge that your effort was completely in vain made your heart sink like a stone. 

But she didn't come forward when Fujimoto asked him to either. Your grandmother simply stayed rooted in place, watching as Akaashi cried out in torment. For a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of something shiny in her hand, slightly hidden by the long sleeves of her attire. But before you could squint to take a better look, you heard the sound of metal colliding with a sickening crunch against another surface. Then, you heard your captors grunt with pain, their grip on your arms coming loose as they crumpled to the floor. You gaped at them, confusion and terror intermingling in your eyes when you saw that their shaved heads were marred with a bruise that strangely resembled a—

" _Fuck_!" Itsumi yelled, letting the shovel she'd been holding clatter to the ground. She pulled her hands to her chest, shaking like a leaf. "I-I didn't kill him, did I?"

Kazuto sighed, crouching down to get a feel at the monks' pulses on their wrists as he set down his own shovel. "Calm down, senpai. They're just K-O'ed." 

"Easy for you to say!"

"Senpai, now's not the time to freak out," your junior sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder as he gazed at you with concern. "You good, cap?"

You wanted to ask what in the nine _hells_ they were doing here, but it seemed that the monks were alerted by their presence as well. Their chants had come to a halt as they stared, horrified, at the newcomers that were your nosy teammates. Fujimoto's mask of confidence faltered and you saw a flash of fear shadowing his face. 

"Seize them!" he barked. "Don't let a single one see the light of day."

"Fujimoto-san," your grandmother spoke sharply, making you look back at her with surprise. "You best hold your tongue when speaking about disposing innocent children. We have a more important task at hand. Don't lose focus."

It was as if something snapped in the old man once your grandmother had imparted the words. The rage he'd been holding back materialized in a single look, a deranged grin stretching across his lips as he seized the shrine elder by her neck, lifting her up in the air with a strength a man his age shouldn't be capable of. Your grandmother was just as stunned, but she didn't struggle against his iron grip. 

"You have been _quite_ the nuisance, haven't you, Amatsuki-sama?" he chuckled darkly, squeezing tighter. "If only the shrine elder wasn't as morally upright as you. I'll make sure to replace you with a better puppet; someone...easier to corrupt once we're done here. Any hindrance to our clan's legacy is better off thrown away, after all." 

When you snapped out of your stupor, your first instinct was to run—run straight in front of Fujimoto and bring your knee up where it hurt most; to beat his face bloody for hurting Akaashi, for hurting your _grandmother_.

Before you could execute your plans, a blur of red zipped past you, leaving a soft gust of wind in its wake. It darted around the shrine, too fast for your eyes to see, and from the stunned reactions of all parties, you figured that everyone was just as puzzled. One-by-one, the monks that followed Fujimoto's command suffered the same fate as your captors, pained grunts and wails filling the courtyard until none of them were left standing. In the midst of it all, Akaashi seemed to have lost consciousness in his battle against the incantations. All that was left was Fujimoto, who immediately let go of your grandmother as he glanced frantically around for the red figure that had knocked his followers unconscious. 

However, the old man made the mistake of shifting his focus away from the elder of the Amatsuki shrine. From where you stood, too petrified to move an inch, you watched your grandmother rise from where she fell on the ground. The elder pulled her arm back, and with one swift motion, she plunged the silver kitchen knife in her hand straight through the monk's back. 

He howled in pain, flailing around as he tried to take the knife out, but lost his balance when the red figure from earlier promptly tackled him to the ground. 

"You—!" Fujimoto choked on his own words as the figure, who you now realized was a man in a red cloak, stomped on his chest to silence him.

"Huh. Who would have thought that the wild goose chase would end here," spoke a familiar voice. "Amatsuki-sama, thank you for your help."

Once you snapped out of your stupor, you immediately sprinted towards your grandmother—tears welling in your eyes as you ran into her arms, choking out broken sobs as she caressed your hair tenderly. 

"I'm sorry, child," she murmured, kissing your forehead. "I needed him to let his guard down so Takahashi-san could swoop in unnoticed."

Sniffling, you looked up at her, confused. "Takahashi...?"

When you flickered your gaze to the man cloaked in red, he pulled down his hood, revealing the face of the monk you'd gathered the _omamori_ amulets from a few weeks ago. He spared you a kind smile before speaking. "You were very brave, coming up here on your own. My sincerest apologies for letting you be the catalyst for all our plans."

"W-What do you mean?"

Takahashi heaved a long breath, casting a stare at the boy lying unconscious in the middle of the foyer. "I'd gladly tell you all the details, but that one doesn't have much time left."

You followed his gaze, the relief you had felt expiring before you could even relish it. Without another word, you ran towards Akaashi, going down on your knees as you propped his limp body against your frame. You hadn't noticed how badly you were trembling until you tried shaking him awake. You couldn't even pay much attention to it when the charm on your wrist emitted a faint glow. All that mattered was Akaashi—no, _Keiji_. 

"Hey," you whispered, caressing the back of your hand across the skin of his bloodstained face. "Keiji, please wake up."

But he didn't respond to any of your pleas, remaining deathly still in your arms. You had the inkling that he never had a real reason to breathe even before all of this, so you weren't sure if you should take the fact that his chest wasn't rising nor falling as a good sign. Your heart surged in your rib cage, dread sinking its claws into your skin as the seconds ticked by. Were you too late? Was he never going to go back to his home in the skies?

"Here." 

Whipping your head around, you saw Takahashi hunched over you, handing you a vial of sorts. Having been so engrossed with waking Akaashi up, you didn't even notice the monk, your grandmother, and your friends draw closer to the both of you. Back where they left him, Fujimoto lay motionless with his hands tied together and the knife still sticking out of his back.

"It's a potion meant to revitalize weary spirits," he explained. "I suppose it _should_ take effect on a god-turned-yokai wearing human skin." 

Deciding to cling to any solution you could get your hands on, you took the vial from his grasp, whispering your utmost thanks as you uncapped it. You tugged at Akaashi's mouth with your thumb, letting its contents pour from the corner of his mouth. You tilted his head in a way that the clear liquid would gush down his throat, and when you were certain you'd gotten the job done, you exhaled a staggering breath.

"Do you mind filling me in on what the hell just happened?" you asked no one in particular.

Itsumi and Kazuto avoided your gaze, and you just noticed that they were _still_ in their athletic uniforms; meaning, they'd followed you once you went up the shrine. Your grandmother kept her silence, mouth pressed into a thin line. And you couldn't even begin to wonder how Takahashi managed to sniff out Fujimoto as someone suspicious, but you were glad he was here all the same. 

"Us monks from the Fuji mountains have other tasks aside from providing charms and amulets to other shrines," Takahashi spoke up walking over to one of your shrine's unconscious monks. "We also have the mission to track down the remnants of the Muramasa clan. They are the ones behind the Turning of the first yokai, and are the owners of the demonic swords you would often hear about in your history lectures. They have...a bad reputation, so to speak."

Then, he crouched down, tugging the monk's robes open to reveal a sigil seemingly burned onto the skin of his chest. You could hear Itsumi gasping in shock, and you supposed the reaction was warranted because even _you_ were startled by the crisscrossed marks that formed a grotesque face of the Muramasa demon. 

"I didn't actually depart the area once we met up at Ikebukuro, (Surname)-sama," he confessed. "I received intel that the monks at the Amatsuki shrine were acting quite odd. So, I paid it a visit on the night of the lunar festival to see for myself. And while they did not do anything remotely suspicious, Muramasa descendants emit a malicious aura of sorts that I have been specifically trained to identify. The whole shrine reeked of it."

"Then Takahashi-san recruited us to do some investigating!" Kazuto interrupted cheerily, earning a jab on the side from Itsumi. 

In contrast, Takahashi chuckled. "The boy is right. I never would have been able to make a move tonight had they not weakened the protective seals around the shrine. Those Muramusa folk not only set up barriers to alert them of the presence of a yokai, but also of those like my fellow Fuji monks that were out on the prowl for them."

"The time you spent hanging out with Akaashi, Kazu and I spent snooping around the shrine," Itsumi told you, a soft smile grazing her lips. "It's a good thing Amatsuki-obasan loves me to bits."

"Of course..." Takahashi turned to your grandmother, beaming. "Amatsuki-sama's utmost cooperation was direly crucial to our plans."

You needed a minute to process all that. Akaashi was still laying slack against you, and you were being told that the two of you were merely pawns in this whole charade they were playing. Sure, you've never felt comfortable around the monks in the shrine for as long as you could remember, but why...why did Akaashi have to suffer in order for their plans to be fulfilled?

"Child."

You stared up at your grandmother shakily, whose face was devoid of the hostility she'd shown you earlier. All that you could see in her eyes was the care and adoration she'd never fail to show you since you were little.

"I know this is all hard to take in," she spoke softly. "But do not take this the wrong way. The look on your face is telling me that you think we just used you and your little boyfriend as bait to lure the Muramasa descendants into one place."

You knew more than anyone else how dire of a situation this was, yet you felt the blood rush to your cheeks at the mention of Akaashi being your _boyfriend_ regardless. Coughing awkwardly, you were about to tell her that, no, the deity in your arms was _not_ your boyfriend. But then, Akaashi picked the most opportune time to regain consciousness before you could clear the air—gasping for breath as you felt him lurch forward. 

"Keiji..." your own, broken voice filled your ears as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, momentarily catching the yokai by surprise before you felt him melt into your touch. 

"Hey," he whispered breathlessly. "I'm sorry I broke my promise—ow!"

Your fist shaking from where you hit him on the shoulder, you cried out, "Do you think that matters, you idiot?! You barely made it out alive!" 

Akaashi blinked back at you, surprised by your outburst. You noticed that his eyes were still two, mismatched colors, but before you could comment on it, he burst out laughing so merrily that it was like he'd forgotten he was being held hostage not thirty minutes ago. 

"Takahashi...was it?" he asked, craning his head up at the monk. "I figured out the identity of my captors when that head monk said he'd banish me to the Netherrealms. No other Order believed in such a place aside from the Muramasa clan, so I owe you my thanks. For piecing it together."

Takahashi all but grinned. "Keiji-sama, I am simply doing what the gods expect of me. But now, you should do what is expected of you, too."

The monk glanced upward, in the same fashion that Akaashi used to stare up at the moon. Far above, the sky was still overcast, and you could already feel the light drizzle prickling your skin. You looked back at your grandmother, who had a look of encouragement in her eyes that just said, _go_. 

You had a lot of questions—you were _brimming_ with them, really. But Takahashi was right. 

It was time for Akaashi to go home.

* * *

"You know, when I thought of introducing a boy to my parents, I never imagined it'd be under these circumstances."

As the icy raindrops pelted your skin, you felt Akaashi tug you closer to his chest. Your eyes were trained on the gravestones of the people who brought you into the world with an odd fondness. Strangely enough, sitting in front of it with him by your side instilled you with a serenity you never imagined you’d feel under a shower of rain. 

"I never thought there would be an instance where I'd have to be introduced to a human girl's parents either," he chuckled and you felt the vibration of his laughter rumbling in his chest. 

You sighed, lacing your fingers through his long, slender digits. You weren't very sure if he grasped the concept of human affection, but he was letting you do as you pleased, so it was only fair to use his lenience to your own advantage. As you felt the raindrops trickling on your skin, you turned to face the yokai, and in turn, he tilted his head to look you in the eye. 

Even when his body was lacerated all over, even when his eyes came in completely different hues, even when he was a god that you could never hope to stay by your side, your feelings remained the same. There were a million things you wanted to say. A million what if's you'd want to let him to ponder on before he left and never returned. But you'd never been blessed with a silver tongue, and all you could manage were simple words of gratitude. 

"I'm glad to have met you," you told him, voice barely a touch above a whisper. "I really am, Keiji."

"You still are even though my existence tore the shrine apart?" he wondered briefly. 

In lieu of a response, you threw your arms around him, tugging him close enough for you to hope that maybe you could meld your bodies into one. That maybe, if he were to become fully human, he wouldn't have to leave. But selfishness was never a trait of yours, so even though you wanted to be a little greedy for once, you pulled away before you could overstep your boundaries. 

But as the tightness of your grip slackened, _his_ only persisted. 

Akaashi wrung his lean arms around you, feeling his fingers tangling themselves in your knotted hair. The yokai whispered promises that were lost in the rain, but ones you understood altogether, like the steady thrum of your pulse that only he could ever evoke. 

"Your heart is mine," he murmured against the crown of your head, "just as much as my heart is yours. We are one and the same. We will never be apart, and you will never be alone."

Akaashi was...warm. For the first time, his skin felt warm, _alive_. The rhythm of the rain all around you coalesced with the scent of wet earth, embedding themselves into your senses as you carved this memory in the back of your mind. But you realized that his skin only mirrored the sensation of heat because he had one hand pushed inside your chest.

But, no, it wasn't like the scene you saw in a dream once. Your blood didn't spill anywhere. It was as if he'd simply reached into the deepest niche of your heart without severely damaging your insides—like he submerged his arm in water and not flesh. You completely understood what he was trying to do, and the voice nagging in your head told you that if he could pull a selfish stunt like that, you had all the right to do the same.

So you did.

His lips felt oddly soft against yours, like the delicate caress of sakura petals on the first day of spring. The way he sighed against your mouth was so dizzying, your brain barely registered it when he pulled his hand out of your chest. But that was the last thing on your mind as Akaashi traced the curve of your lips with his own, moving gently, languidly, with a tenderness that no demon could ever hope to achieve.

It was as if eternities have past and lifetimes have unspooled when you pulled away from him with a gasp. Had you not needed to breathe to stay alive, you never would have broken your union. But when your consciousness reeled you back into reality, you realized that the rain had stopped, and Akaashi was staring down with wonder at the glowing, white orb in his hand.

The essence of the moon. 

"A thousand years of searching all for this," he chuckled, gazing fondly at the object that he'd been seeking his entire life. The same object that he could have ripped straight from your chest right from the start, but chose not to. 

Because even if the world had shunned him, turned him away, he'd never forgotten where his roots lied—up in the sky, in a realm far beyond your imagination.

When Akaashi enclosed his fingers around the essence, the light disappeared completely. When he opened them again, it was gone. But as you looked a little closer, you saw tiny orbs of light floating around him like white fireflies. A look of resignation shone on his face as he cast one, last smile your way.

"If you ever miss me, I'll always be here," he told you, taking your hands in his. "In the place where the moon shines brightest."

Maybe your sense of reality had been warped. Maybe Tsukuyomi simply longed to be reunited with her child as soon as she could. But you knew for sure that fate simply did not want to grant you enough time to at least bid him a proper farewell. Before you could even wrench out a single word, his earthly vessel had already been engulfed in a blinding, white light that exploded all around you—sending a powerful whirlwind howling in your ears. 

In the midst of the chaos, however, you found peace.

* * *

When you descended back to the shrine, you were greeted with quite the scene.

"I contacted my brothers to pick up the Maramusa folk to keep them in custody," Takahashi filled you in as you watched his fellow monks escorting the corrupted followers down the hill. "It will be a little tricky explaining this if the law was involved, so we're pretty much working underground."

"Sounds sketchy," you admitted. "But what do we do now? All our monks turned out to be descendants of the people that created the first yokai. Doesn't the fact that they stayed here for more than twenty years bother you?"

The monk responded with a gentle laugh as he patted you on the shoulder. "I had an enjoyable stay here, you know. I might just convince my shrine elder to have me transferred. I’ll discuss the details about shrine cleansing once I secure the position.”

"For real?!" 

Takahashi nodded, waving one hand in the air before making his leave. "I'll be seeing you soon, (Surname)-sama." 

As the last of the Fuji monks had left the courtyard, you noticed the noticeable effort made to ensure no trace of the blasphemous ceremony that took place was left. Then, you were intercepted by two people who you'd never imagined would even dip their toes in the realm of the supernatural.

"Didn't we tell you to rely on us more," Itsumi scolded, trapping you in a headlock despite your active protests. 

Kazuto grunted in agreement. "Yeah. You’ve got an entire team at your back, alright, cap? You're not alone." 

_Your heart is mine just as much as my heart is yours._

"Yeah," you relented as Itsumi eased her grip around you. The two of them stared at you, eyes wide like they hadn't expected their awfully independent captain to just go along with it like you just did.

"Itsumi," your grandmother called out as she emerged from the staircase, sending her a tight-lipped smile. "Do you mind making us some tea downhill? Make some for your friend, too."

Getting the hint, Itsumi ushered Kazuto out of the scene, both knowing better than to interrupt a moment between you and your grandmother. Once your teammates were out of earshot, she then invited you to take a seat on the wooden platform that overlooked the foyer.

In the silence of the night, you could only watch as the clouds parted overhead. A dark moon hovered in the sky—signalling the start of a new lunar phase.

_We are one and the same._

"It was Kaede who told me of your little trysts," she admitted, stretching out her aged limbs. "I told her I already knew and that she should stop sticking her nose into other people's business. Goodness, she's never changed since we were teenagers."

You weren't even surprised at this point. "How did you know?"

The shrine elder cast you a sly grin. "I'm not telling."

"I take it that you’re not going to tell me about how you had it in you to stab a person either?" You were just trying to grate at her now, but knowing your grandmother, she would play along, regardless.

"Of course not, you silly child." Not five minutes into your supposed _talk_ , she already got back to her feet, striding off ahead of you. But then, her strides came to a halt. She looked back at you with a stern glance, and for some reason, the sight of her making that face in that shrine outfit triggered a memory you didn't even know you had.

In your mind, you pictured a woman that had the same features as her, albeit more youthful. The set of her lip and the curve of her brow—your mother's face hovered in your head as clear as day.

"I trust you more than you think, so it'll make me the happiest geezer alive if you did the same with me," your grandmother spoke once more, snapping you out of your reverie. "Come along now. The tea might get cold."

Shaking your head, you got back on your feet, ignoring the way your clothes were still damp from the rain. "Wait for me, oba-san!"

The steps that led back to your house were damp from the rain, forcing you into awareness for both your well-being and your grandmother’s. 

But as she scolded you for worrying too much, you felt the charm on your wrist tinkling softly in the wind. Glancing down, you saw that it was glowing faintly in the darkness.

You craned your neck at the sky, where the dark moon seemingly winked at you from the unfathomable distance that separated you. With your other hand caressing your wrist fondly, you whispered another quiet thanks to the breeze—hoping it will reach him in the heavens.

_We will never be apart, and you will never be alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the end of it all. This was actually the first multi-chapter I finished even tho I’ve been writing for Haikyuu since 2017 *nervous laughter* Thanks so much for all your supportive comments and just the feedback you guys have been giving this story have inspired me so much. And to July, I don’t even know if you read on AO3, but either way I’ll tell you this on Quotev anyway so: thanks for loving Akaashi so much that I just had to write you something so fleshed out. 
> 
> As uze, you can yell at me to finish my other fics on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) and if you feel like pitching in, I also have a [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai)!
> 
> That’s it for this fic (OR IS IT)!! (Yo)Kai here, signing off!


	12. Beyond the Night

"One bouquet of camellias just like you asked!"

Bokuto laid the sprig of flowers gently on the table, beaming at you with a sunlit smile. You gazed at them with quiet endearment, the stark red petals almost glittering in the daylight that filtered through the windows. Having been so engrossed with updating the address book for Amatsuki shrine's followers, you didn't even hear his arrival. But you were glad he was here all the same.

"Thank you, Kou."

You smiled, admiring the effort he'd exerted to run this particular errand for yours. Bokuto Koutarou was a busy man, being the newest addition to Japan's Olympians and all. Yet he still had it in him to squeeze some time to go to the shopping district and trek up the hill just because it was _that time of the month_ again.

"It's no problem," he laughed, adjusting the strap of a bulky travel bag over his shoulder. "My events don't start until noon anyway. Besides, I like to think I got them for _you_ sometimes." 

You looked up at him with an amused look, shaking your head as your pen scratched at the address book once more. "Kou, tease me any more and I'll begin to think you're actually flirting with me."

The Olympian's wide grin toned down into a soft twitch of his lips—a look that he only showed you when he wanted to be sincere.

"Have you seen him yet?" Bokuto asked in the same, consequential tone he'd always used when _he_ was the topic of interest. 

For the second time today, he'd ripped your attention away from the task at hand. Sighing, you left your pen inside the address book as you promptly closed it—your trusty charm tinkling on your wrist. Something told you that you weren't going to get any work done as long as Bokuto was here. 

"Nope," you replied with practiced ease. He had posited the question a handful of times and you begrudgingly gave him the same answer over and over. But Bokuto's initiative to just...check in even though it was likely he'll get a response he already expected was already heartwarming as it was.

You didn't regret letting him in on the truth at all.

The plastic crinkled along with the wrapping paper of the bouquet as you moved to cradle it in your arms. The camellias bloomed vibrantly this month—so much like _that person's_ eyes that it almost hurt to look at them. But you held your gaze, one deft finger caressing the petals with careful tenderness. 

"Do you think he would've followed me? To the Olympics, I mean." 

You glanced up at Bokuto with a confused stare that flickered into fondness as you placed the bouquet back. "I don't he think he would do that. Although...he'd definitely cheer you on in your games." 

The smile he put on this time was less like something Bokuto Koutarou would crack, and more like one you would show him on your bad days. For a moment, your heart staggered with regret. Maybe you shouldn't have told him the truth about Keiji. Maybe you should have just played along with the white lie he'd fed to Bokuto (the one where he supposedly moved abroad to study). You didn't even think someone like the ace would willingly accept your crazy narrative about yokai, the lunar goddess, and the ancient Muramasa clan, and yet...

"Thank you." Bokuto spoke so softly, you barely heard the words. 

You craned your neck, shooting him an incredulous look. "What for? _You're_ the one who's been doing me favors for—"

"You trusted me enough to let me know," he explained, leaning against the windowpane as his honeyed eyes gazed outside. The remnants of winter blew past, making even Bokuto's stiff hair dance in the breeze. "Ever since Akaashi just disappeared like that without telling me anything, I thought of how inadequate I was. Not just as a captain, but as his friend. Something was obviously bugging him at the time, but I guess he thought I might just babble to the wrong people. Or worse, I wouldn't understand." His mouth twitched into a frown, broad shoulders sagging with guilt. "I was probably just a bother to him."

The sound of the table rattling as you shot up to your feet startled the ace into alertness. Bokuto blinked at you, watching the way your hands trembled against the wooden surface. "(Name)—"

"It's not like that," you said, mouth quivering ever-so slightly. "Keiji never thought of you as a bother or anything of the sort. He...he never told me anything explicitly, but we both know him well enough to say that he wouldn't dare think of anyone dear to him as such."

You thought for the longest time that involving those that didn't have ties to the realm of the supernatural was something you should avoid. There were designated shrine elders and monks saddled with the job of keeping things in order so that ordinary folk could enjoy their peaceful lives for a reason. But you learned the hard way that it was never wrong to put your faith in those ordinary folk. If Itsumi and Kazuto hadn't been there on the night of Keiji's departure, you didn't even know if you would have made it out alive.

It wasn't like Keiji didn't trust Bokuto with the truth. His faith in the ace was a something a little different, and you understood it a bit late, yourself, too. 

Bokuto was a hopeless case with serious matters, as most people said. But it was for that reason Keiji believed that, if there was anyone that could continue moving forward—even without a proper send-off or farewell—it would most certainly be Bokuto. 

And the comfort of having someone like that truly was a privilege. 

Bokuto's desolation slowly, slowly morphed to something a little self-forgiving. He breathed out a chuckle past his nose as he brought one large palm to ruffle your hair with a grin.

"You always know what to say, don't you?" There was a familiar fondness in his tone—one that toed the boundaries of your tight-knit friendship. (But it was also a line he'd never tried to cross; not even once.) "I'm still bummed you didn't go pro. You didn't even go to college! I bet would've been the captain of the athletics team for Tokyo U, too."

You flopped your arms over your chest. "Now you're just gassing me up, Kou. _Someone_ had to succeed the shrine, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he drawled, shaking his head as he fished out his cell phone. When his lock screen lit up, however, Bokuto's sunny disposition fell apart in a second.

"Our game's been moved to an earlier schedule," he muttered sulkily before dashing towards the door. Before he could make a full exit however, he skidded into a halt. He snapped his head back, jabbing a finger in your direction. 

"You're going to watch one of my games, okay? I've got two reserved seats for you for each day!"

Not giving you much of a choice, Bokuto immediately bounded outside. You watched him from the window as he nearly tripped on the cobblestones, cussing loudly in the fresh, morning breeze. When the ace was nothing but a small speck in your field of view, you spared the bouquet another look.

You'd been leaving flowers and offerings in the forest uphill every time a dark moon hung in the sky. It signalled new beginnings, for one, and...you considered it a little commemoration of sorts since Keiji had gone back to the skies. You doubted whether or not he'd like them at first, but the offerings would mysteriously vanish from the clearing once you checked them out the next morning.

"Gods don't interfere with human affairs, huh..." you chuckled, getting up with the intent to place the flowers in a vase first before—

"That Bokuto and your Keiji-sama are polar opposites, aren't they, child?"

You startled at the sound of your grandmother's voice, nearly toppling over the chair you'd claimed for yourself earlier. She looked a bit livelier today—the sickly paleness of her skin giving way to a healthier color. 

"Oba-san, should you be up?" You laid down the flowers once again, padding barefoot towards your ailed grandmother. "Do you need your medicine or—"

"He'd make a fine husband, that one," she chuckled, taking your hands gingerly as you guided her towards the comfortable sofa. "He's an athlete, no? That ridiculous monthly income would be beneficial for the shrine, you know. It's high time you started thinking about these things."

As you fluffed the throw pillows around her, you felt yourself flush at her words. "Oba-san. Kou has a lot on his plate already. We are _not_ going to leech off on him like that. B-Besides, I don't— He's...um—"

Her soft laughter made your train of thought stray further as she looked up at you with those timeless, sincere eyes of hers. "Just as I thought. We'll have to adopt your successor, won't we?"

"I just succeeded you a year ago." You pouted. "You're so quick to get rid of me, oba-san. I'm hurt."

With strength you didn't know she still had in her arms, your grandmother tugged you down by the collar of your shirt, forcing you to look at her in the eyes. 

"Keiji-sama will always be your first love. That is something I can never take away from you," she sighed, easing her grip on your clothes in exchange for patting down your hair. "But I just want you to remember that your separation doesn't draw the line on your love life. Foolish little child, clinging to the moon when there's a rich man ogling you right there."

"You've been pretty transfixed with the shrine's funds lately, huh?" you spoke dryly, deciding to take a seat beside her before staring up at the ceiling. The sight was so familiar. You've lived in this same house for twenty-four years of your life, after all. 

"Bah. Whatever plans you have for the future, just know this old hag trusts you to make a good choice," she sighed, leaning against your frame. "Not the choice you think you should do nor the one that aligns with our beliefs. I want you to make a decision that makes you happy."

You glanced at her, at a loss for words. It's true that you hadn't really been thinking of what lies ahead very much—having been so focused with succeeding your grandmother that you forgot to plan the rest of your life. 

"It's been six years and you've devoted yourself to Tsukuyomi-sama ever since..." Her voice trailed off and you felt her wrinkly fingers wedging themselves in between yours—so reminiscent of the times she'd held your hand as a child. Even the grin she wore was unchanging, with the same, teasing ridge to her lips. 

"You've always chosen to put others before yourself. Don't you think it's time you chose... _you_?"

Her words echoed in your ears and for a moment, your eyes flashed. The bell of your warding charm felt warm against your skin, and out of instinct more than anything else, you snapped your gaze back at the window. Just outside...you could have sworn you saw someone reaching in to caress the flowers on the table—

 _No_. He couldn't be. It was nearing midday and a _lunar_ deity couldn't possibly...

"Oba-san," you ventured quietly. "Can Tsukuyomi-sama check on her own followers even beyond the night?"

She affixed you with a puzzled stare. "What kind of question is that, child? Of course she can. The gods are omnipresent, after all." 

"I see..." Your voice trailed off along and the heat of your charm vanished just as quickly as it emerged. As a small grin snaked past your lips, you squeezed your grandmother's hand tenderly.

"Do you want to watch a volleyball game today?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SIKE I couldn't just let Bokuto fade out of the narrative like that. Also, disclaimer: please do not take your sickly grandparents to volleyball games. I swear this is done for real, goodbye keiji!
> 
> Talk to me on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) and support me on [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai) if you'd like!


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